


Second Best

by dreamsofspike



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Domestic Violence, Emotional Abuse, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:30:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 77
Words: 189,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/pseuds/dreamsofspike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Adam confesses his feelings to Kris just before the Idol finale, Kris's reaction is not what he'd hoped for. Hurt and rejected, Adam is vulnerable to the advances of a young man who seems to be just what he needs to get over the new American Idol. But all is not as it appears to be, and he ends up in a dangeous situation that he can't escape on his own. Will Kris be able to help him -- and after the way things were left between them, will Adam even be willing to let him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story contains graphic depictions of domestic violence/abuse, including some scenes of torture, non-con/rape, humiliation, extreme verbal/emotional abuse, and is potentially extremely triggering for some readers.

The whole season had come down to this one night.

 

All the competition was over, the performances, the judgment from the panel and from the voters – it was all over and done with. By the end of this night, Adam and Kris would know which of them had won the competition that had begun with their auditions nearly a year earlier. There was nothing left to be nervous about, nothing left but to hear the results at the end of the night.

 

And yet, Adam was more nervous than he’d been in his entire Idol experience.

 

And he didn’t give a damn which of the two of them won.

 

He cursed under his breath, tossing down his eyeliner pencil in frustration when his hands proved too unsteady – for the third time in the last half hour – and he ended up with a black smudge across his cheekbone. He pressed the palms of his hands over his eyes for a few moments, drawing in several deep, calming breaths before glaring at his reflection in the mirror and trying again.

 

He had only managed to repair the damage and begin the finishing touches on his eyes again when he heard the door to his room open, and knew immediately who had entered.

 

Strangely, his hand immediately began to tremble again.

 

Kris appeared in the bathroom doorway, grinning down at Adam as he tried to ignore his friend and focus on his makeup. Kris watched for a moment before leaning in and tapping Adam’s hand teasingly.

 

“Nervous?”

 

“Hey, watch it.” Adam shot Kris a glare, rolling his eyes at the younger man’s silly antics, before muttering irritably, “Like my hands need any help shaking right now.”

 

“Come on, nothing to worry about tonight,” Kris reminded him, shaking his head with an easy, reassuring smile as he leaned in to hug Adam’s shoulders from behind. “It’s all over now. Let’s just enjoy it.”

 

Adam reluctantly returned his smile in the mirror, raising a hand to affectionately rest on Kris’s arm for a moment before gently rolling his shoulders back to indicate that Kris should move and let him finish getting ready. Kris read the signal clearly and immediately complied, moving back to stand in the doorway for a few moments longer, watching his friend’s routine with unabashed interest.

 

He was quiet for a few moments before pointing out helpfully, “You know they have dressing rooms at the auditorium, right? You can finish there if you need to.”

 

“I’m more comfortable here,” Adam explained, sounding a little distracted. “I know all my stuff is here. I’m used to doing my makeup here. It’s just… easier.”

 

“If you say so.” Kris glanced dubiously down at his watch before turning to head back toward the door. “Car’s pulling out in twenty minutes. Better hurry.”

 

Adam hesitated a moment, considering the words he’d just spoken in a different light. This place had been home to them both for the past several months. After the show tonight, things were going to get crazy – and he might not get another opportunity to do what he was trying to work up the courage to do. He kept putting it off, but here, in this room where they were both so at ease, might be the best chance – or even the _only_ chance – he was going to get.

 

“Kris, wait,” he called from the bathroom doorway, cringing inwardly at the slight break in his voice.

 

Kris turned, an unsuspecting question in his expression. Adam bit his lip, fidgeting nervously with the shortest of the chains around his neck. His voice was suddenly small, uncertain, as he continued.

 

“I… I need to talk to you.”

 

Kris’s carefree expression faltered a little, faint worry lines forming between his eyes. “Sure, okay… What’s up?” he pressed when Adam was quiet for a little too long.

 

“I… uh… well… there’s something I’ve been meaning to… to tell you…” Adam’s face flushed with self-conscious embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being this vulnerable, this exposed, and he hated the way he was stammering, stumbling over his words like the shy high school boy he hasn’t been in years. “I mean… I think you probably… already know, but… but I can’t let this end before I’ve… told you. The truth. About... about me, and… and how I feel…” Adam hesitated, searching Kris’s eyes as he concluded, his voice soft and weighted with uncertainty. “… about _you_.”

 

It was obvious the moment when Kris realized what Adam was trying to say. His face fell, his eyes wide with dismay as he slowly shook his head. “Adam… don’t…” he softly objected, a painful gentleness to his voice.

 

But now that Adam had started, he didn’t know how to stop until he’d said it.

 

“I realize this is really sudden and I should have said something a long time ago but I just thought maybe… maybe that you already knew, and that you’d say something, or… or… I don’t know _what_ I thought, exactly, but I kept putting it off and putting it off and I can’t put it off any longer! We’re out of time!” Adam explained, his words tumbling over each other in spite of himself, in spite of the danger he could clearly read in Kris’s expression. As he spoke, Adam moved hesitantly nearer to where Kris stood, until, by the time he finished, mere inches separated them. Kris could have moved away, could have placed some distance between them – and he chose not to.

 

Adam couldn’t help but take that as a somewhat promising sign.

 

His voice softened, taking on a pleading note as he continued. “I just… can’t let this – all of this – end… without knowing that I at least tried. I at least… told you…”

 

Kris did not back down, staring up at Adam with troubled eyes filled with emotion. Yes, there was apprehension there; it was unmistakable. But Adam thought he saw something else in Kris’s eyes as well – something he was trying very hard not to let reach the surface of his gaze.

 

Trying – but failing.

 

“Adam,” Kris whispered, his eyes drifting between Adam’s eyes and his lips as Adam shifted slightly closer. Kris shook his head slightly, opening his mouth to say more.

 

Adam couldn’t let him say it.

 

He leaned in, swallowing whatever warnings Kris might have intended with a kiss far more eloquent than his own weak and rambling words. Kris froze for a moment, and Adam persisted, desperate to make Kris understand how much he felt for him, how he longed to hold onto what they’d formed these past few months, long after this night, when everything would change for both of them.

 

For the barest instant, Adam thought he felt Kris begin to return the kiss, his lips parting slightly to allow Adam greater access, his head tilting upward slightly to better accommodate the taller man. And then…

 

… it all came crashing down.

 

Kris pulled away with a choked, startled little cry, stumbling a couple of steps back and raising his hand to press the back of it against his warm, tingling lips. He shook his head, his eyes downcast, before finally looking up again to meet Adam’s eyes, anguish in his own. Adam’s heart sank with the sudden, painful understanding of what he’d just done – and what was about to happen because of it.

 

“Kris,” he whispered, desperation in his tone. “Don’t…”

 

“I can’t do this, Adam,” Kris declared in a trembling but emphatic voice. “I _can’t._ I – I’m _married,_ Adam! And…” His voice softened as he continued, “… and I love my wife…”

 

“But you love me, too,” Adam insisted, his need for Kris momentarily overcoming any sense of shame or propriety. He moved toward Kris again, reaching out to catch his arm before he could retreat further. “I know you do…”

 

Kris was quiet for a moment, not pulling away from Adam, just staring intently up at him, visibly caught in the midst of an agonizing decision. “Even if I do,” he replied at last, his voice hushed and calm and unbearably final, “that doesn’t matter. I… I made vows to Katy, Adam. I promised her… everything I am. And… no matter how much it hurts… how much I might want to do something else… I have to keep those promises.”

 

Kris finally pulled away from Adam’s hand on his arm, swallowing painfully as he shook his head and whispered, “No matter what… I just can’t do this.”

 

Without another word, he turned and fled the room, making his way down the stairs and out of the mansion – and out of Adam’s life.

 

Well… technically that wasn’t possible. They still had the finale that night, followed by endless celebrations with the other Idols, friends and family and others who wanted to congratulate them. Then in a couple months, regardless of tonight’s outcome, they’d be touring together – so, technically Kris wasn’t walking out of Adam’ life, _yet_.

 

It might have been easier for Adam if he was.

 

Adam forced back the tears, burying the hurt for the moment, reminding himself that he still had a show to put on. He called one of the handlers and quietly asked if he could have a different ride to the show, as he was running just a little bit late and Kris wanted to get there right away. Then, he finished his makeup and made his way down to the lobby – his performer’s mask already in place, if a bit earlier than it might have been otherwise.

 

When Kris won, Adam was genuinely thrilled for him and responded based on instinct and the history they’d formed, wrapping him up in a huge hug which Kris, thankfully, accepted and returned without hesitation. After Kris’s coronation song, while the other Idols crowded around him, laughing and congratulating him and catching up with each other, Kris caught Adam’s eye across the room, his smile fading slightly at the sight of his closest friend, for once on the periphery of the group.

 

He nodded slightly, lifting the trophy a little and mouthing three earnest words while meeting Adam’s eyes directly.

 

“ _You deserve this_.”

 

Adam’s eyes welled with tears, because he knew that Kris meant it, and that Kris deserved “this”, too – and because those three words were not the ones he most desperately wanted to hear from Kris right now. But he couldn’t ruin Kris’s moment, couldn’t steal his celebration; so the performer’s mask remained in place, and he just grinned and rolled his eyes, pointing back at Kris to indicate that Kris deserved it as well.

 

For Adam, the show didn’t end when the lights went down.

 

There was a party immediately afterwards for all of the top ten Idols and their families, as well as the judges and others who’d played key roles in the show. A trendy little LA restaurant that Adam had only dreamed of being able to visit a few months earlier had been rented out for the private event – and Adam found that he couldn’t even enjoy it. He smiled and laughed and faked it for the benefit of his family and the others around him; but he was secretly sick at heart.

 

 _I’ve ruined everything._

 _Could have at least had his friendship. It would have lasted; I know it. But I had to go and confess my freakin’_ feelings _to him, and now… now, he won’t ever be able to look at me the same again…_

 

His mother and brother and a couple of friends had come for the finale and the party, but all of them were off talking with other guests at the moment, and Adam found himself alone for the first time since the unfortunate encounter with Kris in his room at the mansion.

 

Without anyone to distract him, Adam found his eyes drawn across the room to where Kris stood, laughing and talking with a few of his friends from home, his arm casually draped around his adorable little wife. As Adam watched, unobserved by Kris and his people, Kris looked Katy in the eyes, and the warmth and adoration there was unmistakable, in the moment before Kris leaned down and kissed her.

 

Adam glanced up as someone sat down at the table with him, distractedly noting that it was someone he vaguely knew from the security team.

 

 _Jonathan? Jordan? Yeah, Jordan, that’s it._

 

“Jordan, hey, man, what’s up?” He forced a smile, wondering absently what the guy wanted.

 

Jordan returned his smile, nodding in greeting. “Not a lot. Big night, huh?”

 

Adam nodded, his gaze drifting back across the room toward Kris as the new conversation proved not interesting enough to hold his attention. He swallowed hard, a painful knot forming in his throat as he watched Katy whisper something into Kris’s ear, and Kris burst out laughing, his eyes dancing with genuine joy.

 

“You’re wasting your time.”

 

Adam blinked in surprise at the mild observation, but did not turn to look at Jordan. He felt more than a little embarrassed that someone he barely knew had noticed his feelings for Kris, and a little annoyed that said stranger felt comfortable enough to bring up the subject so freely. His jaw clenched in irritation at the somewhat intrusive words – mostly because they were true – Adam fought to keep his tone calm and even as he replied.

 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business. And don’t give me that ‘he’s not worth it’ crap that everybody always seems to think is so helpful, because…”

 

“I wasn’t going to.” Jordan’s voice was soft and matter-of-fact. “Don’t forget, I’ve spent the last few months around him, too – and he’s _definitely_ worth it.”

 

Adam looked at him then in surprise, eyebrows raised as he waited for Jordan to go on. Jordan met his eyes steadily, and there was something arresting about his knowing grey gaze. Adam was a little caught off guard to see genuine sympathy and understanding on the other man’s face when he finally nodded toward Kris and Katy and continued with poignant simplicity.

 

“ _She_ thinks so, too. And she got there first.”

 

Those words stung all the more for the truth that was in them, and Adam flinched slightly, looking away. Only a moment passed, however, before he found his eyes drawn back to Jordan. He was cute, Adam supposed, if not quite his type. He was built a lot bigger than the guys Adam usually went for; in fact, he was a little bigger than Adam himself, and that was a noticeable trait in and of itself.

 

He had short, fashionably spiky dark hair, though, and eyes that were wide and deep and expressive – if maybe the wrong color.

 

Adam shook his head, trying to put the automatic comparisons out of his mind for the moment. Jordan was looking at him with a quietly speculative expression on his face, clearly waiting for some kind of a response. Though initially a little put off by Jordan’s quiet frankness, Adam found himself nevertheless intrigued by him. Jordan wasn’t really pushing, just making simple, straightforward observations. In a world that was swiftly becoming populated with more and more people willing to tell Adam whatever he wanted to hear in order to get what they wanted from him – something about this stranger’s gently brutal honesty was strangely appealing.

 

Adam finally let out a soft sigh, an ironic smile on his lips. “Is it too late for me to say, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’?”

 

Jordan returned his smile, sympathy in his eyes, and Adam noticed that his smile was that genuine, infectious sort that he had had come to find so intoxicating over the last few months.

 

 _God, quit comparing him to Kris. You’ve got it bad. Get a hold of yourself, Lambert._

“Yeah,” Jordan admitted with an apologetic grimace. “It’s been too late for a couple of months now.”

 

“Great,” Adam sighed, looking away, feeling a faint flush of embarrassment creep over his face. “It’s good to know I’m so obvious.”

 

“You’re not. I’m just really observant. Don’t miss much. Sort of comes with the job.” Jordan smiled as he rose to his feet and added, “Which I really should be doing right now. But it was really nice talking to you.” He paused, taking a step away from the table before turning and adding in a tone that Adam found infinitely sincere and reassuring, “And don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me."


	2. Chapter 2

Touring with Kris proved to be exceptionally difficult for Adam.

 

At first, Kris tried to act as if everything was normal between them, as if Adam’s confession of his feelings had never happened. When that failed, he tried to talk to Adam about what had happened between them, tried to make things right and clear the air so that they could get back to normal.

 

Adam shot him down at every turn, making excuses for why they couldn’t talk, why he had to be somewhere else, doing something that didn’t involve hanging out with Kris.

 

Adam wasn’t angry with Kris for his decision. He knew that Kris didn’t want to hurt him, and was only doing what he felt he had to do. He simply felt no inclination to make this easier for Kris, or to let him do what he needed to do just to feel better about the situation, at the expense of Adam’s own pride. He was hurt and rejected, and humiliated that Kris had hurt and rejected him. He didn't need to hear Kris tell him the same thing he’d already said, just in the slightly gentler words he wished he'd used the first time around. What he needed for Kris to leave him alone and spare him the further humiliation of his pity and regret, when that pity and regret wouldn't change anything.

 

Kris was still going to be with Katy, no matter how sorry he felt for breaking Adam's heart.

 

So Adam kept his distance, while trying to maintain some semblance of friendliness for the benefit of the others on the tour with them. There was no need for everyone to know what had happened between them. They had been best friends for nearly the entire duration of the show. It was best to let everyone believe that their friendship was still more or less intact.

 

And besides, in the moments when Adam did not hate Kris for hurting him -- he still loved him desperately. And while he had no desire to make things easier for Kris -- he had no desire to make them any harder than they had to be, either.

 

He just felt so awkward and uncertain around him. Knowing that he'd laid himself bare before Kris, made himself vulnerable, only to be so utterly rejected, was just more than he could take. He missed their friendship, missed being able to turn to Kris about anything and everything.

 

He just wished he knew how to still be friends with someone who knew you loved them, but could never love you back.

 

To make matters worse, Jordan was one of the few members of the security team for the show that was hired to go on tour with them as well.

 

 _They had to hire the perceptive one -- the one who knows how I feel about Kris. As if it's not enough work keeping my distance from Kris; now I've got someone else to avoid, too._

 

Once or twice, Jordan tried to strike up a conversation with Adam -- not about Kris, just casual, ordinary small talk -- but each time Adam swiftly shut him down, claiming that he had to get ready for rehearsal, or that he was tired and going to his room to sleep, or any lame excuse that he thought would get Jordan to leave him alone.

 

Jordan never said it, but Adam knew that he felt sorry for him -- and that only made matters worse. The last time Adam gave him the cold shoulder, Jordan had paused for a moment before walking away, speaking in a quiet, non-confrontational tone.

 

“You know if you ever need to talk, I’ll listen.”

 

“That’s sweet, but no thanks,” Adam had frostily replied, giving Jordan his most insincere smile.

 

 _What does he care, anyway?_ he bitterly asked himself as Jordan silently walked away. _It's none of his business._

 

The night of their thirtieth show, the Idols had a day off to spend sight-seeing in the city. That night, they were allowed to go down to the hotel bar, which had been closed off for an impromptu party for the group and the unusually large number of family members and friends that had come to join them at this particular show.

 

Adam didn't feel like going to the party, didn't feel like doing anything but being alone in his room; but Allison didn't really give him a choice. She pouted and pleaded, pointing out that she wouldn't be allowed to drink like the others, and without the presence of her bestest tour buddy, she would be horribly, miserably bored.

 

Adam never could seem to deny her anything for long.

 

So, he reluctantly made his way down to the party, where he sat at a table with Allison and her mother, laughing and joking, doing his best to keep her entertained without offending her mother too badly with his admittedly questionable sense of humor.

 

Adam did a respectable job of concealing his dark mood, until Allison’s mom insisted that she go upstairs to their hotel room and get some sleep. Understandable, as at that point it was a little after one in the morning – but it meant that Adam was left at the table by himself, with nothing to distract him from the adorably nauseating scene Kris and Katy were accidentally making across the room.

 

Kris was obviously thrilled with the rare opportunity to spend some time with his wife. He didn’t stop touching her, laughing and looking into her eyes in ways that Adam had often imagined Kris would look at _him_ – until he figured out the hard way that he was only fooling himself into thinking it was possible.

 

He glanced up distractedly when someone sat down with him at the table, then rolled his eyes with an unusual level of venomous irritability when he saw that it was Jordan.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Well, isn’t this the most twisted moment of déjà vu the universe has ever handed me,” Adam snarled into his drink. “Don’t you have better things to do than to help me relive one of the worst moments of my life?”

 

Jordan shrugged, his tone mild, his smile sympathetic. “Apparently not.”

 

Adam felt some of his defensive anger deflate at Jordan’s refusal to rise to his baiting. He stared down at the drink in front of him – his fourth tonight – and reluctantly admitted to himself that it might not be such a bad thing to be in the company of someone who actually understood how much this was killing him. He was miserable and lonely and being forcibly subjected to the sight of the object of his affections with someone else – never mind the fact that she the one who had every legal and moral right to him – and no one else in the room even had a clue how much he was hurting.

 

At least Jordan knew the truth, and – based on the lack of concerned tour-mates coming to him to ask him about it or more-humiliating-than-usual tabloid headlines – hadn’t told anyone, and that was _something_.

 

“Actually,” Jordan went on as he rose to his feet and stood in front of Adam, extending a hand which Adam regarded with a raised brow of suspicion. “I was just thinking that if I was going to ask you to dance, I ought to do it before you’re so wasted that you lose all your moves.”

 

Adam was surprised, and more than a little impressed, that Jordan had so casually asked him to dance. Most of the security and other staff automatically distanced themselves from the Idols a little, out of respect; but one thing that Adam could say for Jordan – he treated Adam as an equal, like a normal person that he could just talk to and hang out with… and Adam appreciated that.

 

It was a rare thing in his life these days.

 

He glanced toward Kris and Katy one more time, his jaw setting with stubborn resolve as he looked up to meet Jordan’s eyes. He took the other man’s hand and allowed him to help him to his feet, putting on a bold, defiant smirk as he retorted.

 

“It’s not _possible_ for me to get _that_ wasted.”

 

As Adam stood, Jordan pulled him in close and wrapped an arm around his waist, leading him out to the middle of the slightly crowded dance floor. As they faced each other, Jordan rested one hand on Adam’s hip and the other arm around the back of his neck, pulling him in close to speak softly next to his ear.

 

“Can’t guarantee you’ll make him jealous this way, if that’s what you’re after. But you might just enjoy yourself. I’m a pretty good dancer – and _I_ actually like _guys_.”

 

Adam pulled away from him slightly to glare at him. “Screw you,” he eloquently retorted – but he started dancing anyway.

 

Jordan smiled at him appreciatively as he began to sway to the music – something unfamiliar but sexy, slow with a dark, sensuous sound – and Adam couldn’t help but feel a little flattered and pleased with the attention. He was constantly surrounded by screaming, adoring fans who thought he was the most attractive thing they’d ever seen – and yet, somehow, he hadn’t _felt_ genuinely attractive in weeks.

 

 _Not since... Kris…_

 

Adam found his eyes drawn once more toward Kris, who was now standing near the edge of the dance floor, his back to the wall, his arm around Katy as they talked with one of their friends. For the barest of instants, their eyes met, and Adam found himself perversely pleased with the troubled, questioning look in Kris’s eyes.

 

 _Yeah. Like what you see? Too late._

 _Unless you’ve changed your mind…_

 

Cursing his own weakness, Adam deliberately turned himself and his dance partner so that he was angled slightly away from Kris, before edging in closer to Jordan, his hands sliding around his waist and dipping suggestively downward. He closed his eyes, allowing his head to fall back as he began to instinctively respond to the music and the alcohol and the first actual human contact he’d had in far too long.

 

He forced himself not to look at Kris again, not to let it show that he cared what Kris thought, as he lost himself in the rhythm and the motion, deliberately intensifying the sensuality of his moves, pressing his body against Jordan’s and slowly rotating his hips – secretly hoping that Kris was getting a good, upsetting eyeful.

 

“ _Adam_ …” Jordan’s voice was low and gentle, but softly warning in his ear.

 

As the song drew to a close and something a little lighter and faster came on the radio, Jordan gently pulled away a little, his hands falling to Adam’s arms to try to push him back; but Adam just moved in closer, wrapping his arms around Jordan and holding him close, deliberately making his eyes wide and innocent as he tilted his face up so that his lips were a bare inch from Jordan’s mouth.

 

“ _What_?” he whispered guilelessly, shutting out the guilty voice in the back of his mind that was insisting that this was wrong, dangerous; he was only using Jordan to get to Kris, and wasn’t that every bit as bad as the way Kris had led him on? “What’s the matter, Jordan? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

 

Without waiting for a response he raised one hand to the back of Jordan’s head, pulling him down and kissing him softly. The kiss barely lasted an instant, however, before Jordan had firmly pulled his mouth away, applying slightly greater force than before to push Adam back and hold him away a little.

 

“No, Adam,” he whispered, running a gentle hand through his hair, looking into his eyes with something between affection and sympathy. “It really isn’t.”

 

Adam felt his face flush with embarrassment, and he was acutely aware of Kris’s gaze on him from across the room, even though the dance floor was a little crowded, and in reality, Kris might or might not have been looking at him. Adam couldn’t tell with his back turned to him. But the feeling of being rejected, pushed away – that was painfully familiar.

 

“Fine,” he spat at Jordan. “Get off me then…”

 

He tried to jerk away, but Jordan kept a light grip on his arm, holding him in place a moment longer. There was something resembling concern in his eyes now – and in his slightly inebriated and highly vulnerable state, Adam found it infuriating. He tried to pull away again, but Jordan held onto his arm and placed his other hand on his back, drawing him in closer.

 

“ _What_?” Adam snarled, not sure why he wasn’t fighting harder to get away, his voice nearly drowned out by the music as they swayed slowly back and forth, not really dancing, just slowly turning a little, as if moving only to maintain their right to be standing in the middle of the dance floor. “Make up your mind, Jordan. Do you want me to stay? Do you want me to go? You want me to kiss you or you want me to get lost? _You’re_ the one who’s been following _me_ around for the past few weeks, so I’d say you don’t really know _what_ you want…”

 

“I know _exactly_ what I want.” Jordan cut him off, a slight edge to his voice, something soft but arrestingly intense in his deep brown gaze. “And if you _do_ decide to kiss me… when you’re actually able to _make_ that decision… I know that I want you to mean it.”

 

Adam stared back at him, a little awestruck by the intensity in Jordan’s open eyes and gentle voice. Their slow turn brought them around so that Kris came into his line of vision again, and Adam’s eyes automatically broke contact to seek him out. He felt something aching, breaking inside of him when he saw that Kris wasn’t even watching him anymore, but was seated near the dance floor with his back to it, talking intently to Katy.

 

Hot tears sprang to his eyes, and he found himself jerking away from Jordan again, taking a couple of lurching steps backward.

 

“Let go of me!” he snapped, his voice trembling with hurt and rejection that Jordan had not inflicted.

 

The demand was unnecessary, as Jordan had immediately released him this time, allowing him to pull free without resistance. As Adam stormed off toward the exit into the hotel lobby, and the elevator that would take him back to his room, however, Jordan swiftly caught up with him and took his arm again.

 

“Get your hands off me!” Adam snarled.

 

But Jordan was actually stronger than him, and proved that before, he hadn’t really been trying to hold on, as he firmly led Adam toward the other exit from the bar, into a secluded stairwell.

 

“Where are you taking me?” Adam demanded. “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“Making sure that you get to your room safely – and not by the same route where the paps and every adoring _stalker_ in this city tonight will be waiting to catch a glimpse of you. I’m taking you up the back way.”

 

Adam’s anger was a little subdued by the inarguably rational explanation, but he still jerked his arm away from Jordan as he made his way up the stairwell.

 

“Trust me, you’ll thank me for this in the morning,” Jordan assured him in a weary yet gentle voice. He reconsidered a moment, shrugging slightly before amending, “Or you know… ignore me and pretend you don’t remember any of this. Either way – I won’t have to bear the guilt of letting you get yourself plastered all over the tabloids… well… _plastered_.”

 

Adam rolled his eyes at the out-dated pun, hurrying his pace up the stairwell. When they reached his room, he very pointedly slammed the door in Jordan’s face without thanking him for his unwanted assistance.


	3. Chapter 3

The following afternoon, Adam made a point of seeking out Jordan to talk to him.

 

His embarrassment when thinking back over the night before followed him throughout the day, and he cursed himself for the weakness and recklessness he’d shown at the hotel bar. Adam tried to remember Kris’s face in the few times he’d seen him watching him – tried to gauge how much damage he might have inadvertently done – but couldn’t really remember Kris noticing him much at all.

 

No, the only one who had paid much attention to him in his inebriated and slightly obnoxious state had been Jordan.

 

And Adam had yet to decide whether or not that was cause for relief.

 

Still, that afternoon, when he saw Jordan standing near one of the elevators on the floor reserved for the Idols, he put aside his embarrassed desire to retreat back to his room and bravely crossed the hall to where the other man stood.

 

“Hey.”

 

Jordan gave him a warm, pleasantly surprised smile. “Hey. You look… better.”

 

Adam gave him a withering glare that faded swiftly into a grimace of self-directed contempt as he lowered his gaze and shook his head before meeting Jordan’s knowing eyes again. His voice was hushed, confidential, as he asked softly, “Can I talk to you?”

 

“Of course, sure.”

 

Jordan agreed with a nod, turning and leaning against the elevator doorway, folding his arms over his chest and deliberately giving Adam his undivided attention. For some reason, this made Adam immediately feel very self-conscious, and he looked away, biting the side of his lip as he tried to find the right words. He felt the heat of embarrassment in his face and hoped desperately that his make-up was enough to cover it up.

 

“So, um… I wanted to… thank you. For… looking out for me last night, and, uh… stopping me before I made an even bigger and more pathetic ass of myself.”

 

Jordan rolled his eyes, waving his hand and making a dismissive “pfft” sound. “It was nothing, Adam, don’t worry about it. I’ve been doing celebrity security for years, and trust me, I’ve seen a _lot_ worse…”

 

The knowing laugh that accompanied his words, the conspiratorial way in which he met Adam’s eyes, were both disarming and reassuring, and Adam found himself feeling more at ease. He returned Jordan’s smile with a grateful one of his own, before his expression became more serious, as his thoughts returned to the night before – the things he had tried to do, and the things Jordan had said to him…

 

“No, really,” he pressed quietly, holding Jordan’s gaze, his own searching and intent. “You’ve made it very clear that you’re… attracted to me, and… and I was acting like… well, like a little ho-bag slut,” he concluded matter-of-factly with a self-deprecating little huff of laughter and a sneer at his own expense as he looked away. He was quiet for a moment before meeting Jordan’s eyes again and continuing, “You could have easily taken advantage of that. Of _me_. And... you didn’t. And… I wanted to say thanks.”

 

Jordan didn’t respond for a moment, and Adam began to feel uneasy again under his unfaltering, penetrating gaze. In the sunlight that streamed through the window across from the elevator’s Jordan’s eyes took on an almost golden hue, his expression honest and speculative. When he finally spoke, his voice was certain, filled with quiet confidence.

 

“I meant what I said, Adam,” he said. “I’m not going to lie to you. I like you. Very much. And I’d like very much to be more than friends with you. But… what you offered me last night… is _not_ what I want from you. I’m not looking to play games, or just have a little fun for one night.”

 

Adam blinked, slightly taken aback by Jordan’s direct words; but he couldn’t help but respect the man’s confidence and honesty.

 

The least he could offer him was the same in return.

 

“I get that.” He nodded slowly, his expression solemn and vaguely apologetic. “But… I’ve got a lot of stuff to work through right now before I can… can be with anyone…”

 

“You still love Kris.”

 

The truth, spoken with such simple clarity and without faltering, caught Adam off guard, and he found himself beginning to feel defensive. He squared his shoulders, putting on his trademark smirk. Raising a single brow in Jordan’s direction, he delivered a parting blow before spinning on his heel and stalking away.

 

“Well, there’s that… and also, you’re _so_ not my type.”

 

*********************************

 

Over the next couple of weeks, Adam found that, while Jordan might not have been his “type” when it came to romance, he was _exactly_ his type when it came to friendship.

 

He was both brutally honest when necessary, speaking the truth even when it hurt, if it was what Adam needed to hear; and clearly compassionate and understanding, listening when Adam needed to pour out his frustrations – about Kris, or anything else, for that matter. Adam found himself opening up more and more to his new friend as the days wore on, though he still kept back the greater part of the hurt he felt at Kris’s rejection.

 

Of course – it was gradually coming to hurt less and less.

 

It still hurt. He still missed Kris and their friendship, and what he’d hoped they might have beyond that.

 

But at least Adam’s days weren’t so lonely anymore.

 

Jordan was supportive, listening when Adam was feeling particularly down and insecure, without pushing him to relinquish any more than he was willing to tell. He gave him his space, not reaching out to touch him or overstep his bounds – always wary of the line Adam had deliberately set between them.

 

They both knew that Jordan wanted much more than friendship from Adam – but he made it clear that he was willing to offer only as much as Adam was willing to accept. Therefore, Adam was comfortable with accepting what Jordan offered, allowing himself to transfer some of what he’d invested into his friendship with Kris onto Jordan. He found that he missed Kris less and less as the tour gradually drew toward its close.

 

That was why it caught him completely off guard on the last night of the tour – when he realized just how bad goodbye was going to hurt.

 

He didn’t know what he’d expected. He’d known Kris wasn’t going to suddenly change his mind – wasn’t going to apologize for the choice that he obviously felt was the right one. Still, it hurt when Kris approached him – Katy at his side – with an awkward hug that was tense and distant, and a false smile to accompany shallow words.

 

“It’s been… it’s been so much fun. We’ll have to keep in touch.”

 

Adam forced a smile and nodded in agreement, while a piece of his heart shattered inside at the false, brittle shell that was all that was left of their friendship. He kept it together, even managing to give a completely unsuspecting Katy a warm, sincere hug, telling her how glad he’d been to have the chance to get to know her.

 

And then, all too soon, Kris and Katy were walking away, hand in hand, out of Adam’s life – and suddenly _all_ of him felt as if it were shattering. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, trembling all over as tears sprang to his eyes. He couldn’t deal with another staff member of tour-mate coming to give him their well wishes and kind words, not when even the vain hope of the only one he wanted to talk to – the only one he _wanted_ – had just been lost to him forever.

 

Adam slipped away from the group, walking swiftly on trembling legs until he found himself behind the buses, out of sight. He leaned against the back of one of them, his legs no longer feeling capable of supporting him, as his despairing tears of loss streamed down his face. There was a deep ache in his chest, an agonizing numbness in his heart, as he struggled to come to terms with what he was losing – what still meant so much to him, even after all this time.

 

Adam was lost in his own pain, unaware when a soft rain started to fall – when the sobs began to overtake him – when Jordan somehow found him. He vaguely felt the strong, steadying arms that wrapped around him at last, pulling him close. Frustrated and angry and hurting, Adam fought him at first, crying, struggling to pull away – but Jordan held onto him firmly, gently murmuring soothing words in his ear.

 

“Adam, it’s okay… I’ve got you… it’s all right…”

 

Finally, Adam relented, his struggles ceasing as he allowed his body to sag against Jordan’s supportive strength, allowing his tear-streaked face to fall onto Jordan’s shoulder. His voice broke over the words of his simple, anguished confession.

 

“It _hurts_!”

 

“I know, baby…”

 

“And I’m a freakin’ _idiot_ for letting him hurt me like this, but he’s _gone_ , and I can’t… I can’t stand it,” Adam sobbed breathlessly, his reserve forgotten in the depth of his pain. “I can’t… I can’t stand… being _alone_ anymore…”

 

“You’re not,” Jordan whispered into his ear, one large hand stroking soothingly through Adam’s hair, now messy and disheveled and soaked through with the rain that fell around them. “You’re not alone, Adam.”

 

Adam froze in his arms, instantly recognizing the double meaning in Jordan’s words. He drew back slowly, looking up into Jordan’s eyes with a smoldering, desperate intensity in his own. His emotions were roiling inside him, tumbling over each other in a tangled mass of confusion, until his hurt and his longing became indistinguishable from each other.

 

 _I’m just so tired… so tired of being_ alone…

 

He took Jordan by surprise when he abruptly, forcefully grabbed his arms and reversed their positions, pushing Jordan up against the rear of the bus and pressing an intense, desperate kiss against Jordan’s surprise-parted lips. Adam deepened the kiss – searching, needy, longing – until Jordan finally recovered enough to put his hands on his shoulders and push him back a little, forcing Adam to meet his eyes. His expression was solemn, troubled, as he tilted his head warningly.

 

“Adam…” His voice was hoarse with desire and emotion. “… I don’t wanna be your… your drug of choice, just to numb yourself out for the night… and then have you forget about me tomorrow when you decide to keep… pining over _him_ some more…”

 

Adam considered those words through the filter of the bitterness and pain he now felt toward Kris, and the very different feelings beginning to stir within him for Jordan. He bit his kiss-swollen, damp lower lip, searching Jordan’s eyes as he weighed his answer and finally spoke with stark, simple honesty.

 

“He doesn’t want me,” he whispered. “He never did. You do. And… I _do_ want you, too. I… I like you. And… I don’t want to be alone anymore.” He paused, shaking his head and adding urgently, “It’s not just for tonight. I… I don’t know _what_ this is, but I know it’s not just for tonight…”

 

Jordan hesitated, his voice low and gentle when he replied. “Adam… I’m… not sure that’s enough. We should… we should talk…”

 

Adam started to protest, but then lowered his eyes and nodded, disappointment clear in the fallen set of his shoulders. Even as he accepted Jordan’s words, however, his hands slipped around Jordan’s waist, running slowly back and forth as his breath caught in his throat, lingering evidence of his desire. Jordan’s hands slid away from Adam’s shoulders – one edging up to tenderly caress through his hair, the other down his arm to his wrist, and around to rest on his hip.

 

The rain-soaked air crackled with the tension that surrounded them, their breath quickening in tandem, their hands trembling and needy, instinctively drawing each other closer despite their spoken resolve. Adam tilted his head up again, his lips parted and wordlessly pleading as Jordan’s hand slid around to edge along the waist of his jeans, and a soft gasp escaped his lips.

 

It was more than Jordan could take.

 

“Screw it,” he muttered, his touch no longer tentative, one hand behind Adam’s head drawing him in closer. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

 

And without another word, Jordan effortlessly reversed their positions again, pressing Adam hard up against the bus and claiming Adam’s mouth with his own as his hands slid quick and needy and frantic over Adam’s arms, sides, hips – anywhere he could touch. Adam’s hands shook as he returned Jordan’s embrace, yielding to his kiss, willingly losing himself and all semblance of control in Jordan’s touch, as the rain fell harder – unnoticed – around them.


	4. Chapter 4

Jordan's hand tangled in Adam's hair, nearly slipping out of the rain-soaked strands as he drew Adam's head back and kissed him fiercely, pressing his body back against the bus behind him. The tight pressure on his scalp, the trapped feeling of his body between the smooth steel of the bus and Jordan's solid, warm frame were a little frightening, a little too out of control for Adam's usual tastes.

 

But right now, in this moment... they felt exactly right.

 

Adam's hands trembled with need as he greedily drew the other man closer to him, willingly yielding to the possessive, nearly frantic kiss. One hand slid up to cup the back of Jordan's head, urging him silently to deepen the kiss -- and Jordan did not hesitate to comply.

 

This was it, this was what he needed to feel _whole_ again… to _forget_...

 

"Whoa, _there_ you are!"

 

Matt's startled, half-laughing voice drew Adam abruptly out of the moment, and he pulled his mouth reluctantly back from Jordan's, casting a withering glare in Matt's direction, irritated by the interruption. Matt was already retreating, however, backpedaling around the side of the bus with his hands raised in apology, courteous enough to give them some semblance of privacy.

 

"They're looking for you, man," he called around the corner in explanation. "There's a car ready to take you to your hotel for the night whenever you're ready."

 

The sound of footsteps on concrete followed -- but only for a few moments before they stopped and Matt spoke again, his tone good-naturedly teasing.

 

"And _dude_... way to wait 'til the last possible minute!"

 

Adm cringed, his head falling back against the bus, his eyes closed as he muttered, “Have we _really_ been that obvious?”

 

There was quiet laughter in Jordan’s voice as he replied, “I know _I_ have.”

 

Adam laughed softly, meeting Jordan’s eyes as Matt continued away from them. Then, Adam's smile slowly faded as the reality of which he had been reminded by Matt's words began to sink in. The serious expression that gradually overtook the desire in Jordan’s eyes told Adam that they were both thinking the same thing.

 

The tour was over.

 

Adam was spending the night in a hotel in the city, but the next morning he'd be boarding a plane to return to LA. And Jordan -- well, Adam didn't even know where Jordan lived, how far away he'd be, if he'd be able to see him again. Adam had not been lying when he'd assured Jordan that he did not intend for this to be a one night only affair; but he wasn’t sure how they’d be able to make sure that it wasn’t.

 

And he wasn’t sure what exactly he _did_ want this to be.

 

"I guess..." he ventured softly at last, eyes downcast as his hand slid down from Jordan's hair to rest on his shoulder. "... I guess we _do_ need to talk."

 

Jordan rode with Adam in the car to his hotel room, but neither ventured to say much during the ten minute drive. The driver was silent as well, though she kept casting curious glances in the rearview mirror, and Adam caught the hint of a knowing smirk on her lips every now and then. There was no doubt she knew why Adam was taking the good-looking security guard back to his hotel room.

 

 _Points for her,_ Adam wryly thought as he stared out the window into the inky darkness. _Since_ I _don't even know yet._

 

As if Jordan was somehow reading his thoughts, Adam suddenly felt the soft, reassuring warmth of a large hand covering his, wrapping gently around it with no pressure, no possessive claim -- just silent understanding. He glanced down at the place where their hands connected before looking up to meet Jordan's eyes, venturing an uncertain smile that he hoped was reassuring.

 

Knowing Jordan, and how smart and perceptive he had proven to be, it probably wasn't.

 

Once they were in the privacy of Adam's hotel room, Adam grabbed a set of pajamas and a towel and backed apologetically toward the bathroom, babbling out a weak explanation about needing to take a shower because of the mess the rain had made of his makeup.

 

It wasn't completely a lie -- but it wasn't the whole truth, either.

 

Adam needed a few minutes to himself, a few minutes to think -- and figure out what he was going to do next.

 

The shower could only stall Jordan so long, and by the time he was clean and dry and changed into a thoroughly unsexy set of comfortable cotton pajamas, Adam was still no closer to knowing what he should tell the kind, supportive, caring man sitting patiently waiting for him on his bed – waiting to hear what Adam thought should be the next step in this not-quite-relationship of theirs.

 

Adam ran a hand awkwardly through his towel-damp hair, smiling self-consciously as he made his way slowly toward the bed. He sat down beside Jordan, about a foot between them. His eyes were downcast, focused on the floor at his feet as he absently massaged the back of his neck, biting his lower lip and searching for a way to break the silence.

 

"You, uh... really _aren't_ my type," he confessed after a few moments, then cringed, as _those_ unplanned words certainly weren't designed to make things any _less_ awkward. "I mean... I don't usually... well... I just don't usually go for guys who are... Hell, I don't have any idea what I'm doing right now, Jordan."

 

Sometimes not having a filter royally sucked.

 

Jordan was quiet for a moment, calmly processing those words, before reaching a cautious, gentle hand to touch Adam's cheek, turning his face toward him, silently insisting on meeting his eyes. There was a warmth and understanding in his dark gaze, as he ventured a tentative, encouraging smile.

 

“You said you _do_ like me,” Jordan reminded Adam softly. “Were you lying?”

 

“No,” Adam answered without hesitation, holding Jordan’s gaze. It was the truth. “Of course I do. How could I not?” He looked away, shaking his head in helpless confusion as he went on simply speaking his thoughts. “You’re… smart, and sweet, and just… just _get_ me, and… and you make me feel…”

 

 _... make me feel special again. Make me feel like someone worth knowing... worth loving... when I've spent the last two months feeling like... like somebody's cast off garbage._

 _But I don't know... I'm not sure if that's enough._

 

Adam didn't venture to speak those thoughts aloud, swallowing hard and turning his face away as Jordan's hand dropped to the bed between them again.

 

"I like you, Jordan," Adam repeated quietly, his voice trembling slightly with emotions he couldn't quite identify. "I do. I just... I'm just not sure if..."

 

 _If I can love you. If I can love you... like_ him.

 

"... not sure if I'm... ready..."

 

"No," Jordan interrupted with quiet certainty, a subtle note of authority to his voice. "I think you said what you meant the first time. Only, it's not really the first time you've said it, is it?"

 

Adam met his eyes again, frowning and shaking his head slightly to indicate his confusion.

 

"I'm not the type of guy you usually go for, am I, Adam?" Jordan pointed out, his gaze piercing, far too perceptive for Adam's comfort. "Meaning... I'm not younger than you, smaller than you... easily _controlled_ by you."

 

Adam felt an uneasy chill pass over him with those words, a slightly sick feeling beginning in his stomach. He didn't like the way Jordan's explanation made him sound – and he didn’t like the fact that Jordan wasn’t entirely wrong.

 

"I'm not like that," he insisted, shaking his head emphatically.

 

Jordan was silent for a moment, holding his gaze, though his expression softened with sympathy. "Come on, Adam," he objected gently. "You're a _little_ like that."

 

Adam couldn't quite bring himself to argue -- not when a very uncomfortable part of him was almost certain that Jordan was right.

 

"So just say what you mean..."

 

Jordan continued, reaching out to take Adam's hand, the gesture clearly intended just to focus his attention on Jordan once more. Adam reluctantly met his eyes as Jordan edged in closer to him, his thumb tracing gentle, soothing circles on the back of Adam's hand, the sensation almost hypnotic... like Jordan's hushed, quietly certain tone of voice.

 

"I'm not your type. You're not sure about pursuing this, because even though you like me... even though I... make you feel... _things_... you aren't sure this is going to work... because you're not used to being with a guy like me."

 

Adam found his focus wavering with Jordan's increased nearness, his gaze drifting from Jordan's eyes to his lips, finding their motion somehow almost mesmerizing.

 

"I'm not your type." Jordan's voice was barely over a whisper as he stated Adam's words again softly. His lips twitched in a hint of a sad, ironic smile as he added pointedly but not without compassion, "So... how's your type working out for you these days, Adam?"

 

Adam jerked his hand away from Jordan, abruptly angered by the words that were a little _too_ pointed… a little too _accurate_. His eyes narrowed in quiet fury as he rose to his feet, snarling over his shoulder as he headed for the door -- momentarily forgetting that they were in his hotel room, and there really wasn't anywhere to go.

 

"Fuck you."

 

He'd barely made it two steps before Jordan caught his forearm and jerked him back, the unexpected motion pulling Adam backward off his feet so that he sat down hard on the bed again. He opened his mouth to protest, indignant -- but it was difficult to form the words of objection with Jordan's tongue in his mouth.

 

Jordan held onto his arm, holding him in place despite his admittedly half-hearted struggles, as he kissed Adam deeply. His other hand cupped the back of Adam's head, refusing to let him pull away as he slowly, intently explored Adam's mouth, reminding him of how badly he'd wanted Jordan just a few minutes earlier.

 

Almost against his will Adam found himself surrendering to the kiss and his own desires for that much and more of Jordan. Somewhere in the midst of that kiss, his hands stopped trying to push Jordan away and started pulling him closer. His tongue stopped trying to form the words of refusal and instead ventured to meet Jordan's in a silent admission of his own need.

 

Jordan let out a soft, approving moan against his lips, nodding slightly as his large hands grasped Adam's arms and turned him slightly, maneuvering him around so that Jordan could push him gently down onto his back on the bed. Unreasonably alarmed, Adam immediately resisted again, his hands grasping Jordan's forearms and holding him up off of him. He pulled his mouth away with a gasp, wide eyes searching Jordan's gaze as he drew in a sharp, shaky breath.

 

Jordan braced himself on one arm, raising his palm to slide gently down Adam's cheek, shaking his head with a reassuring smile.

 

"Adam, shhh," he murmured. "It's okay. It's okay. This was what you wanted... right? _You're_ the one who kissed _me_ back at the buses... remember?"

 

Adam felt breathless, out of control, but was nevertheless soothed by Jordan's soft words and touch. He bit his lip, nodding uncertainly, his every muscle taut, his heart racing in his chest.

 

Jordan was quiet for a moment, simply observing him before murmuring with a sort of wondering bemusement. "Why are you so afraid to let someone else take control for a change, Adam?"

 

He continued gently stroking Adam's face with one hand, while his other slipped down Adam's side, slowly edging his shirt up and sliding over the soft skin beneath it. Adam closed his eyes, letting out a soft gasp of renewed arousal at the subtly intimate touch -- the first he'd experienced in months.

 

"You can trust me, Adam," Jordan whispered in his ear before softly, almost reverently kissing his jaw, his mouth edging its way slowly, patiently downward. "I'm not using you. I'm not going to hurt you or walk out on you." His words were punctuated with a series of slow, tender, barely there kisses as he continued. "I care about you... I'm going to be here for you... no matter what. Please, just trust me... Let me show you... how good this can be..."

 

Despite his misgivings, Adam found himself surrendering, his arms rising to help as Jordan pulled his t-shirt up and off over his head... his hands falling to rest encouragingly on Jordan's shoulder and in his hair as Jordan's very talented mouth worked its way teasingly, torturously down Adam's chest and stomach.

 

When Jordan's hands slipped under the waistband of his pajamas and edged them down over his hips, Adam tensed, unaccustomed to making himself so vulnerable to someone he could not easily break with his own bare hands if the need arose.

 

Not that he was expecting it to arise – not really.

 

Jordan was gentle and patient and tender, making him feel cherished and wanted in a way that no one else had for a long time. Jordan's hands were strong and firm but also loving and soft, soothing Adam without words as they ran over his body. Jordan's weight across his legs was not unsettling or restricting, but comforting and reassuring.

 

And besides, by this point... _other_ things were starting to... _arise_.

 

That night, Adam allowed himself to surrender to the culmination of Jordan's advances over the past two months -- and he was glad that he did. He drifted off to sleep in the larger man's arms, feeling safe and secure and wanted -- like he belonged to someone who cared for him -- someone to whom he was not the second best option, but their first choice.

 

In the morning, he and Jordan finally had the talk they'd been meaning to have, hurriedly, while Adam packed his things. Then, they stopped by Jordan's unused hotel room, where his things still were, to collect them. Once at the airport, they cancelled Jordan's ticket home to Florida and purchased a second ticket on Adam's flight to LA in Jordan's name.

 

Jordan went to LA with Adam as his newly hired bodyguard… and boyfriend.


	5. Chapter 5

“What have you got there?”

 

Kris looked up, startled out of his pensive mood as Katy came into their living room, balancing two glasses of coke in one hand and a large bowl of popcorn in the other. He glanced back down at the gossip magazine in his hand, quiet for a moment longer before finally responding in a voice that was soft and a little distant.

 

“Nothing, really.”

 

Katy sat down beside him, snuggling in close at his side and handing him the bowl of popcorn, which he accepted automatically. She picked up the magazine from his lap and glanced at the page to which it was open.

 

“Awww, it’s Adam,” she remarked in a tone of pleasant surprise. “And his new honey. Mmm, he’s cute, too.”

 

Kris didn’t respond, staring off into nothing, clearly distracted.

 

“Kris? Honey, what’s wrong?”

 

Kris didn’t know how to answer that question – and he didn’t know why he didn’t know how. He didn’t know why the sight of Adam hand-in-hand with the familiar security guy from the tour – _Jordan Brenner_ , the magazine reminded him – should bother him. After all, it was none of his business whom Adam dated. He didn’t have any feelings for Adam – not the way Adam had had for him.

 

 _And apparently doesn’t anymore…_

 

And maybe _that_ was the problem.

 

Kris had tried, for a little while, to hold onto his friendship with Adam on the tour, despite the awkwardness that had arisen with that single kiss, on the night when Adam confessed his feelings. Adam, however, had been unwilling to continue being just Kris’s friend, when in reality he wanted so much more.

 

Kris had missed their closeness, privately mourning the loss of their friendship; yet, it had made him feel – _something_ , some nameless emotion he couldn’t describe – to know that Adam cared for him, wanted him, was secretly pining for him throughout the tour. He’d catch Adam watching him, and he’d feel a pang of remorse and sympathy for his friend – but also a strange sense of reassurance at the knowledge that Adam’s feelings for him had not faded despite their separation.

 

Kris also remembered the jealousy he’d felt that night at the hotel, when Adam had danced with Jordan. Of course, it’d been obvious that he was trying to make Kris jealous – and it had worked.

 

 _And that’s all this is. You’re jealous, Kris Allen._

 _Well… get over it._

 _You can’t push him away and expect him to keep carrying a torch for you. Even if there_ was _… something… more than friendship there… you’re a married man, and you’ve made your choice to move on. It’s only fair that he has the chance to do the same._

Kris just hadn’t expected that Adam would move on so quickly.

“Kris? What?” Katy persisted, sounding a little concerned now as she glanced back down at the picture. “Is there something… _wrong_ with this guy?”

 

“Nah,” Kris assured her, waving a dismissive hand before taking the magazine from her and tossing it aside. “It just seems… a little sudden, is all. A couple of weeks ago on tour, they were just friends.”

 

“Or so you thought,” Katy amended, nudging him and giving him a mischievous wink.

 

“No, I was… pretty sure that’s all it was to Adam.” Kris shrugged, shaking his head and trying to focus his thoughts anywhere but on his estranged – and now very much taken – friend. “Whatever. He can do what he wants. Let’s just watch this movie.”

 

But as Katy picked up the remote and turned on the DVD they’d rented and he settled in close to her, putting his arm around her and drawing her in against his side, Kris found that his thoughts wouldn’t focus anywhere else.

 

**********************************

 

“And make sure that no mail comes into the house before it’s been thoroughly checked.” Jordan’s voice echoed slightly in the hall as Adam made his way down the spiral staircase toward the sound. “We’ve been here less than a week and we’ve already received a threat in the mail. I know it’s to be expected to a certain extent, but it concerns me that people already know where we live. I’d be a lot less worried if it came with the rest of the fan mail, but it came _here_ – so I need you all to be extra vigilant until further notice.”

 

Adam felt a little uneasy as he listened to Jordan’s instructions to the security staff for the night, and was reminded of the ugly letter he’d received just a few days earlier. He knew that for someone as controversial and well known as he’d already become, it was not all that unusual to receive the occasional hate mail, or even threatening letter; but it _was_ rather disturbing that whoever had sent it had somehow discovered his home address, only days after he and Jordan had moved in.

 

As the employees under his charge filed away to their respective duties, Jordan turned toward Adam, his face lighting up at the sight of his boyfriend. He crossed the room to him and put his arms around his waist, smiling down at him for a moment before leaning in to kiss him softly. When he drew back, a slight frown creased his brow, and there was clear concern in his dark gaze.

 

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked quietly, his expression growing serious.

 

Adam rolled his eyes, shaking his head in wordless dismissal. “It’s… nothing, just…”

 

He gestured vaguely toward the place where the security staff had assembled. Jordan followed his gaze, a knowing light dawning in his eyes as he looked back at Adam. He was quiet for a moment before his eyes narrowed, taking on a wicked gleam over a teasing smirk.

 

His hands slid down to Adam’s wrists as he took a very deliberate step forward, forcing Adam to back up, throwing him momentarily off his guard. When Adam’s eyes widened in surprise, Jordan’s lips twitched with amusement, and he continued backing Adam up a few more steps until his back was to the wall.

 

“Aww, baby, are you scared?” Jordan whispered, raising Adam’s wrists and pressing them against the wall beside his head. He leaned in close, his warm breath tickling Adam’s ear as he whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” His mouth closed over Adam’s in a forceful, possessive kiss.

 

Adam returned it for a moment before turning his head away with a mocking snort of laughter. “You’re ridiculous,” he declared, but he was smiling, and the fear had faded from his eyes in favor of amusement. He flexed his wrists against Jordan’s gentle but unyielding grip, but he wasn’t really trying to get away. “You know that?”

 

“Yep,” Jordan replied without hesitated, leaning in to kiss Adam again.

 

Adam returned the kiss eagerly, his heart racing with the combination of excitement and uncertainty that always accompanied the appearance of this side of Jordan. Jordan liked to play up his strength and superior size, affectionately teasing Adam about the fact that, unlike his previous boyfriends, his _new_ boyfriend couldn’t be so easily pushed around. In fact, Jordan rather seemed to enjoy pushing _Adam_ around – but only in the fun way, of course.

 

Adam found his feelings for Jordan confusing – and more than a little intriguing.

 

Every day they were together, Adam found himself falling a little harder. Jordan was unlike anyone else he’d ever dated – strong,confident, utterly sure of himself, and able to read him in a way that no one else ever had been able to. Jordan almost seemed to know what Adam wanted and needed before he knew himself, sometimes.

 

A part of Adam enjoyed being taken care of for a change, being with someone who was able to take charge, and to make him feel safe and secure and special. Another part of him, however, was so used to doing everything for himself and being totally independent that sometimes, the intensity of Jordan’s attention made him feel a little uneasy, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to allow himself to accept it. Jordan had made it clear from the beginning that he would not be content to simply let Adam take the lead as he’d done in most of his previous relationships.

 

And Adam wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

 

He didn’t really have the time – or mental capacity – to think about it at the moment, anyway, not with Jordan’s mouth sliding down along his jaw, his strong hands trailing down Adam’s arms to his throat to begin to unbutton his shirt. Adam started to reach down to help him, but Jordan immediately caught his wrists again, raising his mouth to growl softly in Adam’s ear.

 

“Don’t move, baby. Let me do this.”

 

A shiver ran down Adam’s spine as he complied, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back as Jordan returned to the task of undressing him, his warm lips following his hands as they slowly made their way down the front of his shirt.

 

“The… staff,” Adam gasped out, already breathless from Jordan’s expert attentions. “What if they… see…?”

 

“Since when do you care about putting on a show?” Jordan retorted with a smirk. “It’s your house, isn’t it? You can do what you want.”

 

Adam couldn’t argue with that – especially not right then, as Jordan slipped to his knees in front of Adam, his hands sliding down his sides to hold his hips in place against the wall. Something important tried to fight its way through the haze surrounding Adam’s thoughts, and he raised his head, frowning, trying to remember – until he did.

 

“Sweetie… Jordan… wait,” he murmured, lowering his hand and placing it on Jordan’s shoulder, pushing him back slightly.

 

Jordan frowned in irritated disapproval at Adam’s hand before sighing impatiently and giving him a questioning look. “What?”

 

“I’m supposed to… supposed to leave in like… twenty minutes. I have plans…”

 

“Cancel ‘em,” Jordan suggested with a shrug, reaching up to cover Adam’s hand on his shoulder, then lifting it to his lips and slowly, suggestively mouthing his palm, never breaking eye contact. “Come on, Adam… what could you have planned that you’d rather do than… well, _me_?”

 

Adam opened his mouth to respond, but instead of words, he let out a soft, needy moan as Jordan sucked his thumb into his mouth, gently nipping at it with his teeth as his free hand found the front of Adam’s jeans and slowly kneading the swiftly swelling bulge there.

 

“I’m supposed to…” Adam struggled to get the words out, though he was no longer trying to push Jordan away, “… supposed to… meet Brad, and… and a few others… I haven’t seen them in…”

 

His voice trailed off as Jordan’s hand and mouth momentarily stilled, and Adam thought he felt his grip on his wrist tighten just slightly for the barest fraction of a second – but then it was gone, and Jordan was once again persistently working to distract him from his plans. Adam’s free hand was trembling as it fell over Jordan’s, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to encourage or discourage his boyfriend’s efforts.

 

“I… I need…” he whispered breathlessly – then lost his train of thought as Jordan slid his zipper down. “I need to… to go…”

 

Jordan dropped Adam’s hand, rising up higher on his knees, his hands firmly grasping Adam’s hips and holding him in place as he looked up to meet his heavy-lidded eyes with a knowing smile.

 

“Come on. You know you don’t wanna go,” he tempted him softly. “You can reschedule.”

 

“Not for… a c-couple of weeks,” Adam insisted, his voice breaking slightly, his breath hitching in his throat as Jordan carefully took him out and licked a long, slow stripe up the side of his cock. “I-I’ll be… b-busy… _recording_ …” The last word broke off in a choked cry as Jordan’s fingers reached back to trace the underside of his erection.

 

“Then that means,” Jordan murmured, his mouth vibrating against Adam’s skin and intensifying his arousal, his breath quickening as he arched forward into the contact, “that _I’ll_ never see you, either. So let’s just… make the most… of our time…”

 

Adam wanted to argue, he really did – except that he didn’t.

 

Jordan had his way – which was becoming a more and more frequent occurrence – and before long managed to maneuver Adam back upstairs and to the bedroom. He spent several long, deliriously pleasurable, torturous hours, methodically drawing Adam to the brink of fulfillment, then bringing him back down again, over and over again, bringing out every wicked trick in his book, until when he finally allowed him to come, Adam was so exhausted and thoroughly sated that he drifted off to sleep immediately in Jordan’s strong, sheltering arms.

 

Hours later, Adam left a very apologetic voicemail on Brad’s phone.

 

He wasn’t really surprised when he didn’t call back.


	6. Chapter 6

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? How many times can I say it?”

 

Adam sighed into the telephone receiver, rolling his eyes as he rested his head against the wall behind him. He was fifteen minutes into what was supposed to be an apology to Brad, and instead was turning into a never-ending bitch session aimed in his direction.

 

He did not anticipate this conversation ending well.

 

“There aren’t enough times,” Brad replied, his tone scathing and contemptuous. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Adam. You know, I remember when friendship _meant_ something to you!”

 

Adam raised a single eyebrow slowly, aware that the dramatic effect was wasted over the phone. “You mean… the last time I saw you? Like, three weeks ago?” he drawled.

 

“Exactly! Three fuckin’ weeks, Adam! And we had plans, and you just blew them off because… okay, why exactly did you blow _me_ off again?”

 

“I… well… Jordan…”

 

“ _Ugh_.”

 

Adam frowned indignantly, taking the receiver from his ear for a moment and glaring at it as if he could somehow transmit his offense over the phone lines before placing it against his ear again.

 

“Fucking _Jordan_. You’ve been with this guy for like, a _month,_ and I’m already sick to death of hearing his name. And considering the fact that I’ve seen you all of once and talked to you twice during that time – that’s saying a lot.”

 

“Well, he’s my _boyfriend,_ ” Adam stated with the kind of slow deliberation one usually reserved for particularly stupid five-year-olds. “So I guess you’d better get used to it.”

 

“Well, I _guess_ I _won’t,_ since I apparently won’t be seeing you for the next however long it takes you to get tired of _this_ one!” was Brad’s scathing retort. Before Adam could respond with a rather pointed if not eloquent epithet, Brad continued. “So what did the great and marvelous _Jordan_ have to do with the fact that you couldn’t even bother to call and cancel your plans with your friends last night?”

 

The utter weakness of Adam’s excuse became painfully clear to him as he tried to formulate a satisfactory response – and failed miserably. “Well, he… um… he wanted for us to… spend some time together before… before I go into the studio, and…”

 

“Oh. My. _God_. Adam, are you seriously telling me that you didn’t show up last night because you were at _home_ , getting _fucked_ by your boyfriend?”

 

“Well… not exactly.”

 

“Oh, not _exactly_ ,” Brad echoed in a seething tone of pretentious sweetness. “I _see_. Well, in that case, can you tell your wonderful boyfriend to stop _sucking your cock_ long enough for you to get your head out of your ass and actually consider your _friends_ for a second? While you still _have_ some?”

 

“Okay, that makes _no_ sense whatsoever,” Adam sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly with a grimace as he tried to erase the rather convoluted, physically impossible mental images Brad’s words had conjured. “Brad… I said I’m sorry. There’s nothing else I can say. We can get together… well, I’m busy for the next two weeks, but… I can check my calendar around the fifth…”

 

“You know what, Adam, you selfish _bitch_?” Brad cut him off, clearly furious. “Don’t bother _checking your calendar_ for the likes of insignificant cast off friends like _me_!”

 

Adam flinched slightly at the loud crash as Brad slammed his phone down and disconnected the call. He let out a slow, deep breath in resignation, trying to shrug it off and not worry about it.

 

 _Brad is such a drama queen. He’ll get over it in a day or so, and everything will be back to normal._

 

But some instinctive feeling told him that probably wasn’t true. He rested his forehead against the wall for a moment, raising his hands to rub his eyes as he let out a weary groan. What with his mysterious stalker still sending him threatening letters every few days, and the authorities no closer than ever to figuring out who he was, and the work on his album about to start – this was just one more stressful element that he didn’t need in his life right now.

 

He jumped slightly when he felt strong arms wrap around his waist from behind – then relaxed an instant later as he heard Jordan’s reassuring murmur in his ear, and felt the soft pressure of Jordan’s lips against the side of his neck.

 

“What’s the matter, baby?” Jordan asked between kisses, one hand rising to gently cup Adam’s throat and push his head back for better access. “You looked stressed.”

 

“It’s nothing,” Adam insisted, shaking his head, closing his eyes and allowing his head to fall back on Jordan’s shoulder. “I mean… I’m pretty sure it’s nothing. It’s just… Brad’s being an over-dramatic, self-absorbed bitch.”

 

Jordan stopped kissing Adam for the moment, resting his chin on Adam’s shoulder and holding him a little tighter as he let out a little huff of contemptuous amusement.

 

“Yeah, well what _else_ is new?”

 

“Hey!” Adam objected, turning halfway in Jordan’s embrace so he could look him in the eye. “That’s my friend you’re talking about…”

 

“No,” Jordan slowly corrected, a little smirk on his lips. “That’s your friend _you’re_ talking about. All I did was agree with you.” He paused, admitting a moment later, “Very emphatically.”

 

Adam’s expression relented, a smile forming on his lips as he let out a sigh. “We just… had a little fight about… me not showing up last night.” He shrugged, trying for careless. “He’ll get over it.”

 

“Well, if he doesn’t,” Jordan pointed out, his expression serious as he raised a hand to gently trace down Adam’s cheek, “then he’s not worth it, babe. Seriously. If you want my opinion…” He took a deep breath, visibly hesitating before letting out his opinion in a rush. “… he’s a selfish, gold-digging little attention whore who’ll only end up dragging you down by association.”

 

“ _Jordan_!” Adam stared at him, aghast, as he turned the rest of the way around to face Jordan fully.

 

“I mean it, Adam,” Jordan insisted, holding his gaze unflinchingly. “When it comes to friends, you can do a _whole_ lot better than that.”

 

Adam’s eyes narrowed, his head tilting slightly as he studied Jordan’s expression. A slow, incredulous smile began to form on his face. “And… this… sudden hostility toward my friend might not have anything at all to do with the fact that he was once… a lot _more_ than a friend… might it?”

 

“Not a bit, Adam,” Jordan replied without hesitation. “I’m just looking out for your best interests.”

 

He was quiet for a moment, looking away, suddenly self-conscious under Adam’s scrutiny. Finally he rolled his eyes and moved in closer to Adam, his hands at Adam’s waist pushing him gently back against the wall.

 

“Okay,” he confessed, his voice low and slightly suggestive as he shifted in closer, his lips mere inches from Adam’s. “Okay, maybe it’s… a _little_ bit that. I know you two were… were very close for a long time, and… face it, baby.”

 

He met Adam’s eyes again, his gaze darkened with desire as he raised the backs of his fingers to stroke across Adam’s throat again, smiling his approval when Adam closed his eyes and tilted his head back, willingly losing himself in the sensation of Jordan’s touch. Jordan kissed him softly before pulling back to complete his statement, his voice hoarse with arousal.

 

“A guy’d have to be crazy _not_ to be a _little_ jealous when he’s got the most amazing, sexy guy on the planet to come home to every night. I just… I can’t stand the thought of ever losing you… and especially not to someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

 

Adam opened his eyes with a bit of an effort, giving Jordan an affectionate, reassuring smile before raising a hand to pull him down for another kiss.

 

“You _won’t_ ,” he promised, looking into Jordan’s eyes intently, willing him to see how much he meant those words. “I’m yours, Jordan. Always.”

 

*******************************

 

The next two weeks flew by, and when they had passed – Adam’s album was still not finished. He was busy and rushed and utterly exhausted all the time; and Jordan’s rising discontent during that time did nothing to ease the situation.

 

Jordan’s prediction that they would see little of each other during that time was partially true. Due to the situation with the stalker, Jordan accompanied Adam everywhere as his bodyguard, so they were together almost all of the time; yet they rarely had any time to themselves. By the time they got home in the evenings after Adam’s long hours recording, Adam was usually so exhausted that he just wanted to go to sleep.

 

Jordan usually had other plans, and with a little convincing, Adam usually went along with them – which only made him more exhausted than ever the following day.

 

Brad didn’t call back, and neither did his other friends or his family; and Adam didn’t have the time to call them. By the time he got home it was usually too late to call his mom or brother, and he felt uneasy about calling Brad and the others after the incident a couple of weeks earlier. The more time that passed since the last time they had spoken, the more awkward Adam felt about it.

 

He was beginning to feel more and more isolated, and his mood began to spiral downward until he was just desperate to get finished with the recording so he could get on with his life and have a little time to himself again.

 

The day after his last studio session – one month after their fight on the phone – Brad finally called.

 

“Don’t speak,” he commanded by way of greeting. “I don’t want to hear your excuses about how you’ve been too busy making the album that’s going to change music as we know it to return a fuckin’ phone call or five. Why do you think I’m calling _today_ – on the day when you tweeted that your recording’s finally finished?”

 

Adam couldn’t help but smile, though he was confused by the comment about returning phone calls. As far as he knew, there had been no calls to return. He opened his mouth to ask about it, but Brad was already talking again.

 

“I said _don’t_ speak,” he stated in a tone of regal authority, and Adam wondered whether he’d heard him draw in a breath, or simply knew Adam well enough to know instinctively when he’d be about to break in. “This is your chance to redeem yourself, bitch. We’re having a party in your honor, and if you don’t show up, we’ll know it’s because your head really _is_ too big to fit through the door. Either that, or it’s too far up Jordan’s ass for you to even hear me right now. Either way – _not_ attractive, love. Be there, ‘kay?”

 

Adam’s smile widened and he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying his friend’s unique way of looking at things that had seemed so frustrating and annoying to him just a couple of weeks earlier. Suddenly, his exhaustion seemed to lift from him, and the prospect of a party with all of his friends sounded like _exactly_ what he needed.

 

Unfortunately, Jordan had other ideas.

 

“I don’t know, baby.” His disappointment was clear in his voice. “I sort of had plans for our own celebration tonight. I made reservations and everything.”

 

“Well, can’t we reschedule? Do it another night?” Adam suggested, sidling up to his boyfriend and wrapping his arms loosely around his neck. “Brad’s planned this whole party, and all my friends are gonna be there, and…”

 

Adam’s voice trailed off as his mind registered the way Jordan had tensed at the mention of Brad. He sighed, lowering his arms and rolling his eyes as he turned away slightly.

 

“Jordan, come on. We’re just friends. It’s no big deal.”

 

“That’s easy to say. It looks like a big deal from where I stand.”

 

“Well it’s _not_!” Adam insisted, growing frustrated. “Jordan, I love you, but I see you every day, at least a little. It’s been a _month_ since I’ve seen them! I _need_ to get _out_ for a little while, you know?”

 

“I get that,” Jordan conceded softly, but there was a stubborn determination in his expression when Adam turned to face him. “I’d just rather it wasn’t with Brad.”

 

Irritated and defensive for his friend, Adam finally lost it a little. “Well, that’s not your decision, is it, Jordan?” he snapped. “It’s mine, and I’m going.”

 

He headed up the stairs to their bedroom to get ready – but Jordan followed him. The argument continued while Adam chose an outfit and did his makeup, escalating with the obvious certainty that he was _going_ to do this, regardless of what his boyfriend thought about it. It was the first real fight they’d had – and it was a big one. Adam was relieved when he was finally ready and hurried down the stairs toward the door.

 

“Wait a minute!” Jordan snapped, catching up with him and grabbing his arm to spin him around. “Adam, slow down!”

 

“Get your hands off me!” Adam protested, indignant as he pulled his arm free of Jordan’s grasp. “Do you seriously think you can stop me?”

 

“No, I’m going with you,” Jordan explained, sounding tired and frustrated. “At least you’ll be safe…”

 

Adam gave him a look that suggested he was possibly the least intelligent person on the planet. “I’ll be constantly in the company of about a hundred people who have made _me_ the focus of their evening,” he reminded Jordan with a slow, patronizing nod. “I’m _pretty sure_ I’ll be just fine.”

 

“I still want to go with you…”

 

“Well, I don’t want you to!” Adam exploded, throwing up his hands in frustration. “Really, I think it’s a good idea if we don’t spend the evening together tonight. Blow off a little steam, whatever. No offense, but I just kind of… _don’t_ want to bring _this_ …” He waved his hands in a vague gesture to indicate the entire confrontation. “… to my party.”

 

He spun on his heel and headed for the door.

 

“You can’t go alone, Adam, it’s not safe. I won’t let you.”

 

Adam froze in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief. After a moment he slowly turned to face his boyfriend, his eyes narrowed dangerously. His voice was soft but carried a warning edge.

 

“You won’t _what_ , now?”

 

“Adam, that stalker’s out there somewhere, and I won’t let you go alone…”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” Adam nodded slowly with a derisive, disbelieving smile, deliberately ignoring the part about the stalker and turning again to head for the door and the car that was waiting for him outside. “Bye, Jordan. Have a nice night.”

 

Jordan followed him as he walked to the car, opening the door and getting inside. Once inside, he immediately pressed the lock button, shutting Jordan out. Visibly fuming, Jordan walked around to the driver’s window and motioned for him to put it down. Eyeing Adam warily, easily picking up on the tension between them, the driver only put the window down an inch or two to listen to what Jordan had to say.

 

“Adam, if you insist on leaving me here like this, I’ll just follow you there…” Jordan addressed Adam first, still trying to reason with him.

 

“No, you won’t.” Adam smiled sweetly. “Because I haven’t told you where it is and by the time you get to your car we’ll be gone.”

 

Jordan turned his focus to the driver, trying again. “This is a security issue, he _cannot_ go without security to this event…”

 

“Manny,” Adam interrupted, reaching up to put a hand on his driver’s shoulder, drawing his gaze back to him. His smile was warm and genuine, his tone sweet, but there was a hard glint in his eyes that was all business. “Who signs your paychecks?”

 

Manny gave Adam a little smirk of amusement as he rolled his window back up and started the engine. A moment later the car pulled out of the driveway, leaving Jordan staring dumbly after it in helpless frustration.


	7. Chapter 7

“So where’s the famous Jordan? You made plans so he’s off blowing someone else?”

Brad greeted Adam at the door, rising up on his tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek before glancing pointedly behind him as if looking for something. He met Adam’s eyes, a single brow raised questioningly as he spoke with feigned disinterest.

Adam had done his best to push the fight with his boyfriend to the back of his mind during the drive to the club that Brad had rented out for the evening for his party. As the music suddenly surrounded him, and he looked around at the sea of familiar faces, most of whom he hadn’t seen in far too long – suddenly, it wasn’t a struggle to forget about the negative for the moment and just enjoy himself.

Until someone felt the need to remind him.

Adam shot Brad a dark, warning look, muttering, “Don’t ask,” before pasting his smile back on and making his way across the room to greet some other friends.

And Brad didn’t – not for a while, anyway.

A few hours later Adam had had a few drinks and made his rounds of the group a few times, managing to catch up with most of the people he’d wanted to talk to. Brad finally found him leaning against the bar, facing the crowd and watching with a contented smile on his face as he sipped from his glass. Brad hopped up to sit on the bar beside him, calling out his order to the bartender before returning his focus to his friend.

“So… I would have thought your boyfriend would have wanted to celebrate your success with you tonight,” he observed, carefully _not_ watching Adam, surveying the room idly as he spoke.

“He did,” Adam confessed softly, his smile slipping a little.

Brad ventured a glance in his direction, persisting cautiously. “Then… what happened? Trouble in paradise, already?”

Adam sighed, rolling his eyes in Brad’s direction. “We just had a little fight, that’s all. It was no big deal.”

“Yeah,” Brad drawled, a single brow raised as he took in the way Adam’s shoulders had fallen and his smile had all but vanished. “I can see that.”

“Seriously, everybody fights,” Adam insisted, agitation rising in his voice. “It’s just… there’s this… stalker that keeps sending me letters, and… and Jordan’s a little pissy and freaked out right now, that’s all. It’s got us both on edge, and… and that’s all it is. We’ll be fine when I get home tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” Brad looked away as his own drink arrived, picking it up and taking a sip before continuing. “That’s how it _starts_...”

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Adam argued, standing up straight and turning to fully face Brad. “We’re fine. Everybody fights. Maybe we’ve just… been seeing a little too much of each other lately.”

“Yeah,” Brad agreed flatly, nodding as he held Adam’s gaze. “Because you can’t invest everything in one person. You have to hold onto your friends, have separate interests and all that shit. Huh. Didn’t someone give you that advice not too long ago? I vaguely recall… _oh, wait_ …”

“Shut up,” Adam muttered, but he was laughing as he shook his head and set his drink down on the bar. “If I dance with you, will you stop being so annoying?”

Brad gave him a smirk as he slid down from the bar and took Adam’s extended hand, sliding his other arm around his waist as they headed out toward the dance floor.

“Only for as long as the dance lasts.”

Adam silently resolved to talk things out with Jordan when he got home, and let him know that in spite of the dangers, he had to maintain his friendships, had to get some time away every now and then. No relationship could survive being together constantly, and Adam would have to make Jordan see that. He grimaced as he glanced down at his phone, vibrating again, and noted the – five, now – missed calls from _Jordan’s cell_.

Yes, they were definitely going to have to have a talk later.

But for now… he was just going to enjoy his party.

He spent the next several hours dancing and drinking and laughing and talking, until he finally located his driver – sitting at the bar drinking a soda and talking to the only waitress who was still on duty – around 3:30am. Adam was in a very optimistic mood, and though it was partially due to the nice, pleasant buzz of the alcohol, he knew it also had something to do with figuring out what to do about his situation with Jordan.

He smiled as he thought about good friends, and the way that they could sometimes help you come around to your own solution without really saying much at all.

It was almost four when Adam finally unlocked the door to his house and slipped inside. Not too drunk to still be wary of the mysterious stalker, Adam asked Manny to watch and make sure he got in safely before driving around back to park the car and leaving for the night.

The house was dark and quiet, and Adam felt a brief sense of relief that Jordan must have gone to bed rather than waiting up for him. He was too tired to have a serious conversation right now. It would be better to wait until the morning, when they both would approach the issue with a fresh perspective.

Then, the light in the living room came on.

Adam sighed at the sound of footsteps crossing the carpet, and ignored them, heading toward the stairs, intent on going to bed and dealing with Jordan later. Jordan’s voice – low and edged with quiet anger – stopped him on the second step.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Despite his relaxed mood, Adam felt the tension rising in his shoulders at the sharp, accusing tone of Jordan’s voice. He turned to face him, his jaw set with stubborn irritation as he held up a halting hand, his own voice measured and full of forced patience.

“You know where I’ve been,” he replied quietly. “I have had a _wonderful_ night with my _friends,_ and honestly, Jordan, I am _not_ in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, we can talk about this in the morning…”

He turned and started up the stairs again, but before he could take a single step, Jordan grabbed his arm, yanking him back down the couple of steps he’d already climbed and spinning him around to face him.

“No, Adam, you are _not_ gonna just walk away from me like this…”

Adam tried to jerk his arm away as he had done during their fight hours earlier, but found to his surprise and alarm that Jordan must have been holding back earlier – because he might as well have been trying to escape a steel vise. Jordan caught Adam’s free arm in his other hand, and Adam struggled instinctively, furious at being manhandled in this way – furious… and a little scared.

 _God… if he_ wanted _to hurt me…_

 _But… Jordan wouldn’t hurt me. He loves me. He wouldn’t…_

His self-reassurances died half-formed in his mind at the smoldering look of fury in Jordan’s dark eyes. Adam strained uselessly against his grip, still trying to pull away, but Jordan effortlessly pressed him back against the wall, pinning his arms against it with his large, unyielding hands.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, Adam?” Jordan demanded, his voice trembling with quiet, barely restrained rage.

Adam’s eyes were wide, his breath quickening with his heart as he looked up warily into Jordan’s narrowed, angry eyes. He hated the breathless, defensive tone that somehow came out in his voice, though he was trying for outrage at Jordan’s aggression. “I don’t _care_ what time it is! I’m not a child! I can stay out as late as I want, so just _back off_!”

Jordan’s mouth twisted into a sneer of disgust, and he recoiled slightly from the alcohol on Adam’s breath. “Yeah,” he retorted bitterly, that warning undercurrent still carrying his words. “Now you really _do_ sound like a child, Adam. Do you have any idea how worried I was? What could have _happened_ to you?”

“Well, _nothing_ happened to me, I’m _fine_ , so get _off_ me!” Adam insisted, increasingly frustrated and alarmed by Jordan’s verbal attack as much as by the fact that he was still being restrained. “Let _go_ of me!” he demanded, his voice trembling and breaking slightly as he uselessly tried to break Jordan’s grip.

“ _No_!” Jordan snapped, shaking Adam hard and shoving him back against the wall again. “I had no idea where to look for you – whether or not you were even _alive_! You wouldn’t answer your phone, didn’t let me know when you’d be back! What if the stalker had gotten to you?”

“I’m sick of hearing about the damn _stalker_ ,” Adam retorted, a note of panic in his voice now, shaken by the unexpected violence of Jordan’s reaction. He felt trapped, claustrophobic, and just wanted to get away, _now_. “Get the hell _off_ me!”

Adam managed somehow to twist his arms free of Jordan’s grip at last, shoving hard against his chest – and still only managing to budge Jordan a backward step or two. He tried to push past Jordan to the stairs, but Jordan grabbed him and slung him back against the wall again, hard enough to knock the back of his head against it. Adam barely had time to recover from the dizzying impact before Jordan lashed out and slapped him across the face, hard. Unprepared for the blow, Adam reeled backward under the force of it, his hand flying to his face as his knees went weak and he grappled against the wall behind him in order to retain his footing.

Jordan was unfazed by Adam’s reaction, already up in his face, his voice raised to a furious yell. “No, Adam, no you do _not_ get to walk away from me this time! Do you wanna know why I was so freakin’ scared? Do you even _care_ why I thought you were probably lying dead in an alley somewhere, or _worse_?” He stopped for a moment, his hoarse, rapid breath the only sound in the shocked silence between them as he finally seemed to remember himself, and took a step backward. When he spoke again, his voice was low, trembling with dread. His face was streaked with tears, his eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Adam, I just… you just… don’t understand the _danger_ you’re in!”

Adam didn’t move, his back pressed against the wall, his hand still pressed against his throbbing cheek as Jordan’s head lowered and his shoulders shook with sobs. Adam couldn’t seem to find his voice, stunned to silence, his mind still racing to catch up with what had just happened.

“Wh-what,” he spoke at last, his voice breaking over the word. He cleared his throat, drawing in a shuddering breath, before trying again. “What are you talking about, Jordan? What are you so… so freaked out about?”

Jordan was silent, unmoving, for a long moment. Finally, he lowered his hand from his face and reached into the pocket of his jeans. Adam stared blankly down at the somewhat crumpled white envelope in Jordan’s trembling hand when he extended it.

“I… I wasn’t going to show this to you,” Jordan whispered, sounding broken and dejected. “I didn’t want you to… to have to… see… but… but you obviously don’t have any idea… how _serious_ this is.”

Adam remained still for a few moments, simply staring at the envelope, then at last reached out warily to take it, straightening slightly to open the unsealed envelope with shaking fingers.

“Adam… this was on the doorstep when I checked the locks, after you left last night,” Jordan explained, a quiet, pleading urgency in his voice. “Which means… he somehow got past the rest of the security team to leave it there.”

A damp, sick chill swept over Adam as he read the words written there in deliberately generic block letters. It was a new letter from his stalker, detailing how he had seen Adam leaving the recording studio the previous evening. It described the stalker’s opinion of the outfit he’d worn… as well as the things it made him want to do to him.

Adam shuddered as the tone of the letter changed from admiring to malevolent, the stalker proceeding to tell him how he waited every day for the chance to find Adam without his ever-present security and entourage, so that they could have some “time alone”.

The details of what the stalker intended for their “time alone” were disturbingly violent and depraved, and made Adam want to vomit.

Adam allowed the letter to drop to the floor, his hand suddenly shaking too hard to hold it. He instinctively wrapped his left arm around his torso, his hand nervously clasping his right elbow as he anxiously worried his lower lip with his teeth. Jordan cautiously edged closer to him, his hands sliding around Adam, his lips brushing against the cheek he’d slapped as he whispered soothing words against Adam’s skin.

“Don’t worry, baby. He won’t touch you. I promise, I’ll protect you, but… you have to _let_ me.”

Adam couldn’t help but take comfort in the warm strength of Jordan’s hands on his waist, now gentle and reassuring once more.

 _Not like… not like before…_

Adam abruptly pulled away from the soft pressure of Jordan’s lips against his skin, eyes wide and wary as he looked up at his boyfriend, searching his eyes. His voice trembled slightly with confusion and uncertainty when he spoke, his reproachful tone carrying a note of hurt.

“You… you _hit_ me.”

Jordan’s face crumpled, his lips trembling and his eyes welling with tears as he shook his head slowly. “I’m so… so sorry, baby. I should never have done that to you. I just… I was so scared, and I had no idea whether or not you were okay, and then you came in – just fine, and acting like it didn’t even _matter_ , and I just… I just snapped. I… I thought I’d lost you, and… and you didn’t seem to understand how… how _dangerous_ this guy is, and…”

He met Adam’s eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek as he repeated in a tremulous whisper.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I just… I was so afraid I’d lost you, and… and Adam… I couldn’t stand it if I lost you… please…”

Adam felt a rush of sympathy and understanding, despite the lingering ache in his jaw, as Jordan broke down, his shoulders shaking with sobs. He knew what Jordan was asking of him, even if he couldn’t quite voice the question – and he already knew what his answer had to be.

How could he walk out on Jordan, simply for being so scared for his safety that it pushed him beyond the limits of his self-control? Adam thought of a dozen different movie scenes he’d seen, in which the hero took some foolish, reckless risk – albeit with far nobler motives than his own tonight – and returned home expecting the kiss of his lover, only to have her slap his face instead, furious with him for nearly getting himself killed.

 _How is this any different, really? He only did it because he was so scared… for_ me.

“Adam, I swear to you I’ll never hit you again,” Jordan promised, a note of panic in his voice, and Adam realized that Jordan was misinterpreting his silence. “Baby, I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me… please…”

“I won’t,” Adam whispered, instinctively moving forward and wrapping his arms around Jordan, pulling him close. “It’s okay, Jordan, it’s all right. I won’t leave you, I promise. It’s all right.”

Jordan relaxed against him, trembling with relief as he clutched him close, and Adam surrendered to his embrace, closing his eyes and resting his brow on Jordan’s shoulder as he ran his hands soothingly through his hair, trying to reassure him without words that he understood.

“It won’t happen again, Adam,” Jordan whispered, in the reverent tone of a vow. “I swear to you, Adam… it will _never_ happen again."


	8. Chapter 8

Over the next few weeks, Jordan was exceptionally sweet to Adam, going out of his way to pamper him with unexpected gifts and romantic surprises. He seemed anxious to prove to Adam that his shocking behavior had been nothing more than a fluke – a momentary lapse in judgment caused by his panic at not knowing whether or not Adam was safe. He was almost painfully careful not to do or say anything that might offend Adam or make him unhappy.

 

As the weeks faded into months, however, and things returned to normal between the two of them, Jordan seemed to become more and more comfortable with voicing his opinions to Adam, on anything and everything – especially… well, _Adam_.

 

Adam began to notice a very critical side of his boyfriend, as Jordan accompanied him on the various activities surrounding the promotion and release of his new album; it seemed that he had something to say about almost everything Adam did.

 

“Are you really going to wear that? It makes you look cheap,” he remarked as Adam stepped out of his walk-in closet dressed for an interview.

 

After an interview a week later: “You could have worded that differently; it would have made you sound more intelligent.”

 

And Adam’s personal favorite, whispered into his ear as he reached for a pastry off a tray offered to him at a photo shoot – “You sure you need to eat that, sweetie?”

 

Adam had tried to ignore it for as long as possible, telling himself that Jordan was entitled to his opinions, even if they happened to be unfavorable toward him. That last comment, however, was as much as he could take. He smiled sweetly, aware of the cameras that surrounded them, as he took Jordan’s hand and led him aside into the private dressing room that had been provided for him.

 

“What is your deal?” he demanded with quiet frustration once the door was closed and locked behind them. “Why do you feel the need to criticize every little thing I do?”

 

Jordan looked startled by the accusation, frowning and shaking his head in denial. “I don’t…”

 

“Lately it seems like you do,” Adam insisted, an edge of hurt creeping into his voice against his will as he crossed his arms over his chest and took a step backward, looking away. “If you disapprove of me so much, why are you even with me?”

 

“Adam!” Jordan sounded appalled by the very suggestion, quickly closing the gap that Adam had just created between them, gently taking him by the arms and moving in close. “Adam, baby… _no._ I don’t… _disapprove_ of you, I _love_ you! I think you’re amazing and talented and brilliant and beautiful… everything I’ve ever wanted, baby. I don’t want you to think for a second that you’re anything less than that.”

 

Still stung by the none-too-subtle comment on his weight, feeling unusually vulnerable under the combination of the insecurities it brought to the surface, and the gentle touch of Jordan’s hand, Adam blinked rapidly, keeping his face turned away, determined not to allow his hurt feelings to show in his eyes.

 

“Well… what else can I think, when you… you say things like…”

 

His voice trailed off, and Jordan was quiet for a moment, watching him contemplatively. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm and composed. “Adam… look at me.” When Adam refused, Jordan shook him slightly, gently, insisting, “ _Look_ at me.”

 

Adam reluctantly complied.

 

Jordan’s expression was filled with affectionate patience as he continued. “Adam, you are amazing in so many ways. You are… as close to perfect as anyone I’ve ever met. Okay? There’s nothing more I could ask for in a guy. But…” He paused, weighing his words as he went on cautiously, “… you’re _not_ perfect. No one is. And… when you’re close enough to someone to feel that comfortable… that safe… you can tell them the truth. You _want_ to. Because… you want to help make them the best that they can be.”

 

Adam frowned, considering that, uncertainty creeping in around the edges of his indignation.

 

“I love you enough to be completely honest with you, Adam,” Jordan explained softly, sliding one arm around Adam’s waist to pull him in closer. He gave Adam a gently teasing smile and shrugged slightly. “I think… you’re used to dating guys who are really good at giving you exactly what you want and telling you exactly what you want to hear. Maybe they haven’t had the confidence – or hell, haven’t _cared_ enough – to speak up to you and be _real_ … but I love you too much to be anything else. A healthy relationship should make you a better person… right?”

 

Adam hesitated before nodding slowly, guardedly. He wasn’t sure whether or not he agreed with what Jordan was saying. He thought back over his past relationships, and realized he couldn’t remember any of the guys he’d dated offering up any such criticisms as Jordan did. And, it wasn’t as if the things Jordan had pointed out weren’t _true_. A second look in the mirror before that interview had told him that the outfit _did_ look a little slutty; and he supposed that he _could have_ given a better answer to the question posed to him a week later in another interview.

 

And he knew that he did _not_ need to eat that pastry.

 

 _Maybe he’s right. Maybe I just can’t take the criticism because I’m not used to hearing it. Maybe it’s actually better for me to hear it._

“You’re right,” he conceded at last, relaxing into Jordan’s arms around him, his gaze downcast. “I just… I guess I’m not… used to people being so… so straightforward about things like that…”

 

Jordan nudged his hip teasingly with his elbow, a gentle smirk on his lips. “You? The most straightforward person I know?”

 

“I know, right?” Adam laughed softly, rolling his eyes in self-deprecation. “I guess I’m just… a little oversensitive about… some things.”

 

Jordan leaned in to press a light kiss to Adam’s lips, drawing back to give him a warm, reassuring smile. “It’s all right, baby,” he murmured. “Don’t worry about it. You know I wouldn’t tell you anything that wasn’t for your own good.”

 

*****************************

 

“What are you watching?” Katy asked as she walked into the living room with a magazine under her arm and a steaming cup of coffee in her hand, glancing with mild interest toward the television screen. She gave Kris a sideways glance that he didn’t notice as she asked casually, “Is that Adam?”

 

“Yeah,” Kris replied, sounding distracted, his gaze focused on the screen. “It’s his album release party on E! News.”

 

Katy looked at the screen again as she cuddled in close to her husband, and Kris wrapped an arm around her automatically, without thinking about it. “He looks really happy,” Katy observed as Adam moved across the screen, hand-in-hand with his boyfriend of more than three months now.

 

“Yeah,” Kris repeated… though he wasn’t sure he agreed.

 

Something about Adam’s smile – a strange uncertainty, a sort of reserve that had never been there before – made Kris wonder if Adam _was_ happy. This was supposed to be his big moment. His CD had already sold nearly 500,000 copies in its first week, and his song was all over the radio. He should have been thrilled out of his mind – and Kris knew very well that Adam thrilled out of his mind was a lot more exuberant and excited than the image of his friend he saw on the television screen.

 

“Why didn’t you go?” Katy’s quiet question drew his attention, and he frowned, considering the answer. “You were invited, right?”

 

“Yeah.” Kris nodded. “I just… I don’t know. I… don’t think he wants me there.”

 

Katy frowned, puzzled. “But you guys are so close.”

 

“We… we _were,_ ” Kris amended quietly. “We, uh… I guess we kind of… had a fight. Right before the end of tour.”

 

He didn’t think Katy needed any more details than that.

 

Katy apparently thought otherwise.

 

“What did you fight about?” she asked, sitting up to meet his eyes, a curious expression on her face.

 

Kris shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “It was nothing. I mean… I hardly even remember. It just… made things weird.”

 

Katy considered that for a moment. “Well…” she asked at last. “… did you try to talk to him? Work it out? You guys are too close to let a little fight get in the way of your friendship.”

 

“It wasn’t exactly a _little_ fight,” Kris amended with a heavy sigh, his solemn gaze focused back on the screen as Adam spoke to a reporter, smiling and laughing at something the woman had just said. “And… I _did_ try. I called him a couple of months ago, left a message with his boyfriend.” He paused, swallowing hard before making the painful admission. “He never called back.”

 

And hadn’t _that_ been an awkward conversation.

 

Jordan had been cold from the moment Kris had told him who was calling. Kris still winced inwardly at the memory of the subtle accusation in Jordan’s voice. He knew Adam and Jordan had been close friends before they’d ever dated. It was not an unreasonable assumption to think that Adam might have confided in Jordan about how Kris had rejected and hurt him; and judging by Jordan’s demeanor when Kris had called, that seemed to be the case.

 

Jordan had coolly told Kris that he would inform Adam that he had called. Kris wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d failed to pass on the message – and honestly, he wouldn’t have blamed him. He had broken Adam’s heart. Adam probably didn’t want to talk to him anyway.

 

Adam was happy now.

 

 _Wasn’t he?_

 

********************************

 

Adam was in a good mood, smiling and waving to the crowd as Jordan led him by the hand toward their waiting car. Jordan smiled and waved as well as he opened Adam’s door for him and then shut it carefully once he was inside. Jordan walked around the car, politely evading the paparazzi as he got into the back seat on the other side of the car.

 

“Hey, Julie,” Adam greeted their driver cheerfully. “Some night!”

 

She nodded and smiled politely before returning her attention to the windshield.

 

Julie had been driving for them for a couple of months now – ever since Manny had been fired. Adam had been stunned when some of his jewelry had gone missing, and Jordan had discovered it in Manny’s possession. Adam had insisted that he did not want to press charges, and Jordan had grudgingly agreed – but there was no way they could allow a thief to continue working for them, especially given their current security concerns.

 

The stalker had still not been found.

 

Tonight, however, Adam was not going to let that ruin his good mood. He hummed softly as he looked out the window, smiling as the lights of the four-star hotel where the party had been held faded into the distance. He turned his smile toward Jordan, lips parted to speak as he reached out for his hand.

 

Whatever he was going to say died on his lips as Jordan jerked his hand away, turning his head pointedly toward the other window. His expression was dark and stormy, his jaw set with quiet anger.

 

Adam felt an uncomfortable stirring in his stomach at the sight.

 

“What’s wrong with _you_?” he asked quietly. “Didn’t you have a good time?”

 

Jordan was quiet for a long moment before speaking in a terse, controlled voice. “Of course I did. Wonderful time.” He paused a beat before adding in the same tone, “What could be more fun than watching my boyfriend behave like a slut all night with every other man at the party?”

 

Adam flinched, stunned by the harsh comment. He felt his face flame with embarrassment as he glanced instinctively toward Julie, but she did not appear to have noticed the exchange, her gaze focused calmly on the road in front of her. Adam swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry and his stomach fluttering queasily. His voice was quiet, tentative, when he finally replied.

 

“All I did was dance…”

 

“ _All you did_ ,” Jordan cut him off sharply, still without looking at him, “was to practically _fuck_ every guy on that dance floor tonight, for all the cameras and reporters to see. I can just imagine the tabloids tomorrow!” He paused in his bitter, scathing rant to glare at Adam and demand quietly, “Are you my boyfriend or not?”

 

“ _Of course_ I am,” Adam immediately replied, his voice trembling slightly with hurt. “I…”

 

“Then maybe you should show me the respect of not throwing yourself like a little whore at every good-looking man who crosses your path.”

 

Adam heard the warning edge in Jordan’s voice, and felt a sharp jolt of alarm. He steadied his breathing with an effort, trying to ease the tension from his shoulders as he turned to look out the window again, his smile completely vanished. He reminded himself that Jordan wouldn’t hurt him, hadn’t hit him again after that first time.

 

 _And that time a couple of weeks ago, when he pushed me… that doesn’t matter. He didn’t_ hit _me, really, and he didn’t hurt me. Didn’t mean to, anyway. Didn’t mean for me to hit the banister like that…_

 

He lowered a hand absently, subconsciously to his side, where the bruise from that encounter had faded days ago. He flinched, startled when Jordan suddenly reached out to grasp the back of his neck in a firm, unyielding hold – not hard enough to hurt him, but definitely enough to get his attention.

 

“Are you even _listening_ to me?” he demanded.

 

Adam’s stomach lurched, but he did not pull away. “Yeah,” he replied, nodding hurriedly. “Yeah, I’m sorry…”

 

Jordan released him abruptly, and Adam raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, casting nervous eyes toward his furiously fuming boyfriend.

 

“Yeah,” Jordan muttered, glaring out the window again. “You sure are.”

 

“ _What_?” Adam’s indignation momentarily overcame his unease, and he stared at Jordan incredulously.

 

“Nothing,” Jordan snapped.

 

The drive continued in tense, painful silence, as Jordan sat seething, and Adam wrestled with his embarrassment and hurt and frustration. He glanced toward the driver again, but if she had heard any of their argument, she was completely unfazed by it.

 

 _If she’s worked for celebrities long, she’s probably heard a lot worse than this._

 

When they arrived home and Jordan stalked off to their room, slamming the door behind him, Adam worried, wondering what he should do. When he finally decided to go upstairs and try to apologize, he felt a little sick, anxious as to whether or not Jordan would accept his apology, and what might happen if he didn’t.

 

And when Jordan finally relented, embracing Adam and apologizing as well before kissing him and laying him down on the bed to make love to him – Adam’s relief was overwhelming. He closed his eyes, fighting back the tears of confusion and hurt that lingered in spite of their reconciliation, repeating in his mind over and over the mantra that seemed to fill his thoughts more and more with every passing day.

 

 _He loves me. We’re gonna be all right. He loves me..._


	9. Chapter 9

There was an air of anticipation in the crowded amphitheatre as the lights went down, moments before Adam was supposed to give his performance. It was his first live performance since his American Idol days – following up the release of his album by nearly three weeks – and the energy in the room was charged with excited expectation.

Perhaps most eager of all to see Adam perform was Kris, who sat next to Katy a few rows from the front, his eyes locked onto the shadowy form of his friend, raising his microphone to his lips to begin his performance.

An excited little giggle escaped Katy’s lips as she beamed at Kris and leaned in to whisper, “He looks great! This is going to be awesome!”

Her smile faded slightly when Kris didn’t respond, didn’t even seem to hear her, his attention arrested by Adam’s performance as the music picked up and he swung into action. Wide-eyed, seemingly mesmerized, Kris couldn’t seem to pull his gaze from the stunningly provocative moves his former friend was performing.

Katy turned her attention to the stage as well, trying to put out of her mind the nagging concerns that had plagued her for the past couple of months, and to simply enjoy the show. Within moments, however, she found herself gasping in shock at the improvised dance moves Adam was making with one of his male back-up dancers. She looked toward Kris for his reaction – startled to see that he had not reacted in shock as she had. In fact, Kris was staring at Adam, his mouth tight and strained, a slow, visible swallow in his throat.

When Adam tumbled across the stage near the middle of his song, Katy and Kris had much the same reaction, each leaning forward in their seat with a gasp. Kris looked as if he wanted to get up and help him. Of course, Adam quickly recovered, and Katy settled back in her seat, taking in the spectacle he was creating with wide, wondering eyes.

Kris did not sit back again, focused fully on the performance. Katy frowned as she glanced down at this hand beside her, clenched so tightly around the arm rest that his knuckles were white. She placed her own hand over his, but Kris did not respond, did not even acknowledge her. Katy frowned, puzzled, as she looked back toward Adam – just in time to catch the kiss.

The way Kris tensed under her hand in that moment was impossible to miss. Katy looked once more at her husband’s face to see his jaw locked in – something. Disapproval? Resentment?

 _Jealousy?_

The nagging suspicions that had tormented Katy for the last few weeks – ever since she’d found out about the fight Kris and Adam had had on tour – intensified; but she swallowed back the sick knot in her throat, choosing instead to focus her attention on the show in front of her which was swiftly drawing to an end.

But of course, the end of this particular show could only be the beginning.

In the car on the way home, Kris was quiet and withdrawn, seeming lost in his own thoughts. Katy hesitated, not really sure she wanted to know the answer when she finally, softly asked.

“What are you thinking about, sweetie?”

“Huh?” Kris still seemed distracted as he looked at her, startled out of his reverie.

“You just… you’re somewhere else. What’s up?”

“Oh. Nothing, it’s just…” Kris hesitated, shrugging slightly and looking down as he admitted, “… I’m just thinking about Adam. _Worrying_ about Adam.”

Katy nodded slowly, understanding, though the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach had started up again with his unsurprising explanation.

“It’s just… I don’t know if he knows what he’s just brought down on himself, you know? The press is gonna be vicious tomorrow. Or, you know – fifteen minutes from now. He’s started something that I really hope isn’t gonna end up hurting him.”

“He’s been dealing with criticism and discrimination for years, Kris,” Katy pointed out gently. “I think he’s got this. I don’t think he went into it blind. I think… I think he knew what would happen when he did it, and he’s ready for that.”

“Yeah.” Kris nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Probably.” He paused, thoughtful again. “I just… can’t help but wonder…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head with a self-deprecating smile.

“What?” Katy pushed, curious. “Can’t help but wonder what?”

Kris was quiet for a moment before completing his thought. “What his boyfriend thought about all of that.” He paused, and his next words set a cold, worried ache in Katy’s stomach with their unspoken implications. “That – that kiss… _I_ didn’t like seeing it, and I’m just his friend. I know I’ve always been like… protective, or whatever, of Adam… but imagine how his _boyfriend_ must feel right now.”

********************************

Jordan remained quietly by Adam’s side throughout the tense, difficult meeting that immediately followed his performance, as well as through the seemingly endless questions and interviews. It seemed that every member of the press in attendance was desperate to get some kind of a comment from Adam on his scandalous performance.

Adam took a certain measure of comfort from the feeling of Jordan’s large hand at the small of his back as Jordan led him toward their waiting car, opening the door for him and guiding him inside. Adam waved at the paparazzi with a smile that didn’t look as shaky as it felt, before rolling up the window and taking shelter in the knowledge that the tinted glass hid him from their scrutiny.

He was shaking, his arms crossed defensively over his chest, as he took a deep breath, trying to make his mind catch up with the whirlwind of the past two hours following the show. Jordan got into the car beside him, and Adam instinctively moved toward him, leaning his head on his shoulder and closing his eyes. He needed some reassurance right then, needed to know that someone was still on his side.

Jordan shrugged out from under Adam’s touch, pushing him roughly back toward his own seat. Adam looked up in hurt confusion to see Jordan glaring at him, dark eyes glittering with fury, jaw locked in disgust. His voice was low and accusing, though clearly loud enough to be heard by Julie in the driver’s seat.

“Don’t touch me, you little slut.”

Adam flinched as if he’d been slapped, stunned by the venom in his boyfriend’s words. He shook his head slightly. “I… it was just a performance. I’m not…”

“Yes, you are, Adam!” Jordan snarled, jealous resentment dripping from his words. “And you’ve just made that obvious to all of America! Did you think I’d _enjoy_ that little display?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Adam declared, bewildered, shaking his head in confusion. “It was just supposed to be sexy, not…”

“Well, it wasn’t sexy, it was slutty.” Jordan’s words were bitten off with bitter disgust. “And you came across as the biggest whore in the country tonight – on national television.”

Adam felt his face flame with embarrassment, defensive anger building within him. “That’s not fair, Jordan. People enjoyed it.”

 _So stupid. Shouldn’t have done that, he’s right, everybody’s right, I’ve just made a fool of myself in front of the entire country…_

“Yeah,” Jordan sneered. “Maybe the part where you fell on your face.”

Adam flinched at those cruel words – but then his jaw set with stubborn defiance. “Is that the part _you_ liked, Jordan? Do you think it served me right for going out there and acting like such a _whore_?”

“Shut up. We’ll talk when we get home.” Jordan cut him off sharply, a dangerous note in his voice that set a familiar quaking sensation in the pit of Adam’s stomach.

Adam just sat there, quietly seething as they made their way home. He was hurt and angry at Jordan for pushing him and talking to him that way, humiliated by the fact that someone else had witnessed it – even if Julie was very studiously pretending _not_ to have witnessed it – and although he was trying not to be, _very_ afraid of what might happen when they got home.

Jordan’s temper had gotten the better of him a couple of times in the past three weeks, and he had struck out at Adam physically – shoving him once, and slapping him another time – both times over some comment Adam had considered to be harmless, but Jordan had clearly found offensive. Jordan was very apologetic every time, and when he explained his feelings to Adam, Adam could see why the comments would have upset him.

Still, he hated to feel the sick, damp tingle of fear that trickled its way down his spine as he ventured a glance across the back seat of the car to take in his boyfriend’s furiously seething expression.

Adam was not sure he remembered _ever_ seeing him _this_ angry before.

But _Adam_ was angry, too.

As soon as the door was shut behind them, leaving them in the privacy of their own house, Adam spun around to face his boyfriend, his fists clenched at his sides, his jaw set in frustration.

“Okay, you do _not_ get to talk to me like that in front of people!” he declared, shaking his head in indignation. “You shouldn’t talk to me like that _at all_! Do you have any idea how _humiliating_ …?”

Before he could go on, Jordan was up in Adam’s face, shoving him hard with both hands so that he stumbled off balance and hit the wall of the foyer. “Do _you_ have any idea,” he yelled, grabbing Adam’s shoulders and slamming him into the wall with breathtaking force, “how humiliating it was for _me_ to sit there watching you up there with not one but _two_ random guys, behaving like a total _whore_?”

Adam winced at the painful impact to his spine, his entire body tensing in reaction to the violence of Jordan’s actions. He froze, struggling to remain calm in the face of the abuse that Jordan had promised him repeatedly would never happen again. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep his voice low and level when at last he spoke.

“You need to take your hands off me. You need to calm down. Jordan – it is _not_ okay for you to _do_ this…”

He tried to pull away, to slip past Jordan and gain some breathing room, but Jordan was far stronger and easily pinned him against the wall, refusing to let go. Adam struggled, but Jordan held his arms, moving in closer and increasing the sense of claustrophobic panic swiftly closing in on Adam’s thoughts.

“It’s not okay for me to do what, Adam?” Jordan snarled, his tone taunting and triumphant as he lashed out with a vicious backhand across Adam’s face. “This?”

Jordan slapped him again immediately, the dizzying blow making Adam’s knees go weak as he struggled to maintain his bearings. He tried to push Jordan’s bruising grip away from his arm, but his hands were shaking too hard to be very effective. He felt sick, and bright spots of dark color danced in his vision, obscuring it and leaving him disoriented and confused.

“Stop,” he whispered, breathless and pleading. “Jordan, stop this…”

Adam flinched, biting back a whimper of pain, his hands instinctively raised in front of him as Jordan’s hand fisted cruelly in his hair, jerking his head back. Jordan leaned in close to his ear, biting off his words with sharp, menacing fury, punctuating them by shaking Adam painfully to emphasize his cruel accusations.

“Maybe I’ll _stop_ when you stop doing _stupid_ things that make me want to hurt you, you cheap, disgusting little _whore_!”

Adam pressed his shaking hands against Jordan’s chest in a vain attempt to push him back, biting down on his lower lip until he tasted blood to keep himself from crying out. As panic overwhelmed rational thought at the realization that he couldn’t escape, couldn’t overpower his attacker, Adam found himself falling back on a defense mechanism that was becoming all too common for him these days.

 _Just gotta make him calm down… always making him angry… just gotta get through to him…_

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling and breathless, his eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Jordan, please… please don’t…”

“Yes, you are, Adam!” Jordan snapped, hitting him in the face again. Adam’s knees gave out, and Jordan allowed him to sink to the floor, going down with him so that he was crouched in front of him and still in his face. “You are a sorry, worthless little _slut_!”

Jordan let go of him, standing up straight – only to kick out viciously at Adam, one hard-toed boot catching him in the stomach. Adam doubled over with pain, letting out a startled cry, as Jordan crouched in front of him again, grabbing his hair and shaking him slightly, leaning in close to whisper into his ear.

“You’re _never_ going to do anything like that again… are you, Adam?”

Adam didn’t even consider the question; he knew there was only one answer that was acceptable. He shook his head hurriedly, his breath shallow and ragged as he struggled to control his own panic. Jordan fell silent, his hand in Adam’s hair gradually easing until his fingers were no longer grasping and cruel but gentle, stroking slowly through his hair in a possessively affectionate gesture.

When he spoke, however, his measured words – spoken in a hushed, vicious whisper – were anything but kind.

“Did you really think… your whorish, degrading antics in the second half of that show… could make people forget about what a _fat, clumsy fool_ you made of yourself in the first half?”

Adam flinched at the words, his face flaming, hot tears of humiliation burning behind his eyes. He swallowed hard, biting down on his lip to hold back a soft sob, as he lowered his head and shook it slowly – though even he wasn’t sure whether he was agreeing with Jordan’s assessment of the situation, or denying it.

Jordan released him at last, rising slowly to his feet. Adam drew back instinctively against the wall, one trembling, bruised arm wrapped around his knees in a weak gesture of self-protection, still half-afraid that Jordan wasn’t finished yet. Jordan glared down at him for a long moment before breaking the tense silence with a parting blow.

“You make me sick, Adam. You _disgust_ me.”

He walked away then, leaving Adam crouched on the floor, his shoulders shaking with the release of his shock and hurt. Jordan’s cruel words echoed in his mind with the remnants of his terror, and Adam wasn’t sure _what_ he felt anymore.

He was only sure of one thing.

 _I have to go._

Adam waited until he heard the sound of Jordan’s office door closing before rising on unsteady legs and heading for the stairs. His head was pounding and his entire body ached from the combination of Jordan’s blows and the sheer tension of the encounter. His face felt like it was on fire, and there was something warm and wet trickling from his lower lip. Adam didn’t let himself think too much as he pulled a small duffel bag from under the bed and began filling it with the things he thought he’d need.

The thought that this was _his_ house and _Jordan_ should be the one to leave didn’t even cross his mind as he packed.

 _I just… have to get away… have to think…_

Adam zipped up his bag and headed for the stairs again. He glanced toward the closed door of Jordan’s office on his way to the foyer, noting with relief that the light was still on inside. Without a second look, he keyed in the access code to the security system and stepped out the front door into the night.


	10. Chapter 10

Adam kept his head down, his eyes hidden by the dark shades he wore, despite the fact that it was dark outside and the hotel lobby was dimly lit. He was acutely aware of the curious gaze of the elderly woman behind the counter – the only person within sight. He didn’t know how the taxi driver he’d hired had managed to evade the paparazzi, but to his immense relief, by the time he’d reached this out of the way hotel just outside of LA, there wasn’t a single car following them.

 

He was pretty sure the clerk recognized him, though, in spite of the dark glasses and thick scarf that obscured his facial features – and completely covered the bruises around his jaw and his left eye.

 

“And how long will you be staying, Mr. Mitchell?” she asked, addressing him by the name he’d used to sign for the room.

 

There was a knowing note to her voice, and Adam was surer than ever that she knew who he was, though she didn’t seem inclined to point it out. He bit his lower lip, a hand rising unconsciously to brush against his aching cheek through the soft, thin fabric of his scarf.

 

“I’m… not sure yet,” he replied quietly. “Can I just… pay for several nights, and… and go from there?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Thankfully, Adam had a few days before he was scheduled to appear anywhere again. He just needed some time alone, with the peace and quiet to think about what had happened and decide where to go from here. He locked himself into the clean, comfortable room and lay down on his back on the bed, casting his sunglasses aside before pressing the heels of his hands down over his eyes and letting out a shaky sigh. A single question echoed through his thoughts, his heart aching for the answer.

 _How could he do this to me? He loves me… doesn’t he? How can he keep hurting me like this?_

 

Suddenly, Adam felt acutely, painfully lonely.

 

He thought about calling someone – one of the many friends with whom he’d so thoroughly lost touch over the past six months. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to any of them. No one had called in several months, and he hadn’t exactly had the time to call them – or the motivation, when it was so painfully clear that they didn’t care to speak with him.

 

He’d called Brad a couple of weeks ago. Because Jordan harbored such a dislike for Brad, Adam had made sure to wait until Jordan was busy holding a meeting with the household staff. He had wanted to be sure that he had time to actually talk with his friend, without drawing Jordan’s anger for the attempt.

 

It didn’t really matter in the end.

 

Brad had been on his way out the door to somewhere, and hadn’t had time to talk. He had seemed cool and distant, and Adam had let him know how hurt he was to think that after going so long without talking, Brad couldn’t take a few minutes to speak with him. Brad had curtly informed him that he’d called Adam several times on his cell phone, but Adam had never called back; so it wasn’t _Brad_ who’d been doing the ignoring.

 

Adam knew that it had to be an excuse. There’d been no missed calls from Brad on his cell phone, and his phone was always on.

 

“Why didn’t you leave me a message?” he’d demanded, challenging Brad’s claim.

 

“There must be something wrong with your voicemail, because it never picked up.”

 

Adam received dozens of messages every day, so he knew that his voicemail was working perfectly. It was obviously just an excuse to explain away Brad’s utter and complete lack of caring.

 

 _The only one who_ does _care anymore is Jordan – and I think he cares a little_ too _much._

 

Adam spent the night in quiet solitude, with the television on for company, though he was paying it little attention. Eventually he felt brave enough – or scared enough, dependent on one’s way of looking at it – to turn the television to the entertainment network and see what people were saying about the performance that had pissed Jordan off so badly.

 

Apparently – Jordan was not the only one.

 

Adam turned the television off, feeling sick and empty and utterly exhausted. He lay down on the bed again, trembling inside, and hating himself for wanting nothing more than he wanted to be held in the reassuring comfort of his boyfriend’s arms. He didn’t understand how one person could make him feel so safe and protected and loved sometimes, and so worthless and low and scared at other times.

 

 _He’s right, though. I shouldn’t have done it. Obviously. Everybody’s saying it. He’s always telling me to tone it down so I don’t come across as such a slut. If I’d listened to him, then they wouldn’t be saying this stuff about me…_

An hour after he checked in, the phone calls from Jordan started. Adam hesitated for a moment, but didn’t answer. A few moments later, his phone lit up again, informing him that he had a message.

 

He didn’t have the nerve to actually listen to it and hear what his boyfriend thought of him right then.

 

By the morning after he checked into the hotel, Adam had missed fourteen calls from Jordan’s cell, and accumulated ten messages. He deleted them without listening to them, then dialed his mother’s number from his cell phone – but she wasn’t home.

 

He didn’t try again.

 

When his phone rang again thirty minutes later, Adam finally hit the receive button and held the phone to his ear. He sat down slowly on the side of the bed, feeling strangely weak and uncertain, one arm braced across his stomach in a vain attempt to still the queasy, trembling sensation he felt.

 

“Adam?”

 

He didn’t respond – wasn’t sure he could bring himself to speak without breaking down.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Jordan’s voice sounded shaky and broken – but Adam had heard it all before. He swallowed back the knot in his throat, forcing the soft, trembling words past his lips before disconnecting the call.

 

“Not good enough.”

 

Jordan tried again a few minutes later, and without really knowing why, Adam found himself compelled to take the call. Again, he said nothing, simply waiting for Jordan to speak.

 

“Adam, baby, please don’t hang up.” Jordan’s voice was urgent, pleading. “Please, baby, I’m so sorry. I _love_ you. I don’t know why I got so angry, Adam. It’s just that… what you did on that show… it just… it freaked me out, baby. I’m sorry, I just… I couldn’t stand seeing you like that, and… and knowing what everyone was gonna say…”

 

His voice trailed off, but Adam clearly unheard the unspoken words that followed.

 

 _What they_ are _saying…_

 

“I’m so sorry, Adam. I’m so sorry. Can we… can we just meet somewhere? Will you talk to me? Can you just give me that much?”

 

Adam bit his lower lip, blinking back the tears that rose to his eyes. There was such desperation, such affection and need in Jordan’s voice, that he felt himself falling all over again. He was so lonely and confused and uncertain as to the future of his career, his relationship, and – well, pretty much everything in his life at the moment – that he desperately wanted to accept Jordan’s suggestion.

 

And that alone was frightening to him.

 

Adam hung up the phone again.

 

Jordan didn’t call again for nearly an hour – and Adam spent the entire time wondering whether or not he’d made the right decision. He just wished he had someone to talk to, someone who could help him understand the mess that his life had been reduced to in the space of a few short days.

 

The problem was, the one he usually talked to these days… was _Jordan_.

 

When Jordan finally called back again, Adam gave the address at the hotel and asked him to meet him there.

 

**************************************

 

When Jordan knocked at the door to his room, Adam made sure it was him, and then hesitated a moment before opening the door.

 

 _He loves me… he’s sorry… we can work this out… we’ll be okay, if I can just get it right…_

 

Jordan stood there in the doorway for a moment, an uncertain, pleading look in his eyes. He closed the door behind him and took a hesitant, halting step toward Adam. When Adam immediately backed up a couple of steps, his arms crossed protectively over his stomach, Jordan froze, a slow swallow visible in his throat. Adam wasn’t wearing any makeup, and the livid purple bruises on his face stood out in stark contrast to his pale, freckled skin.

 

“Adam… I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, shaking his head slowly in sorrow and regret. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Adam didn’t move, his eyes wide and focused on the floor, his jaw set with quietly defiant resolve. His voice was low and cautious but trembling with the uncertainty it betrayed when at last he spoke.

 

“This can _never_ happen again, Jordan.”

 

Jordan took a hopeful step forward, checking himself and stopping before he could startle his very skittish, anxious boyfriend. “I know,” he whispered, nodding. “I know, Adam.”

 

“I mean it.” There was a quiet desperation in Adam’s voice. “If you ever hit me again, Jordan… it’ll be the last time you touch me.” He looked up, his gaze intent and warning when he finally met Jordan’s eyes. “I won’t tell you where I am, and you won’t be able to find me. I’ll have you kicked out of my house legally if I have to, and have all the locks changed.” He paused, swallowing hard. “If it happens again… we are _done_ , do you understand?”

 

“I understand,” Jordan agreed, nodding, his voice hoarse and trembling with grateful emotion, arms extended as he slowly closed the rest of the distance between them. “Adam… I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again, I swear, baby. I won’t ever hurt you again.”

 

Adam tensed slightly as Jordan’s strong arms wrapped around him – and then relaxed into his embrace, his shoulders shaking with tears. In spite of his reservations, in spite of the nagging uncertainty in the pit of his stomach and the warning voice in his mind he was trying to ignore – it was such a relief to collapse into the arms of someone who obviously loved him more than anything else in the world.

 

 _He wouldn’t get so angry about seeing me with someone else if he didn’t love me so much. We can do better._ I’ll _do better – and we’ll be okay. We’ll be okay this time._

 

***************************************

 

Things went very smoothly – for about a week.

 

Adam came home from giving an important magazine interview to find Jordan in a rather irritable, agitated mood.

 

He warily kept his distance, his nervous fidgeting betraying his fear, as Jordan slammed cupboards around in the kitchen while making a pot of coffee. Adam leaned against the counter, trapping his hands between it and his own rear end in a vain attempt to still his own ceaseless nervous motion. After a few moments, he ventured in a timid, trembling voice.

 

“Jordan… um… is something wrong?”

 

Jordan froze, looking up at Adam as if noticing him for the first time – then let out a heavy sigh, dragging one hand down his face and shaking his head ruefully. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured. “I just… well… I need to show you something.”

 

Relief set in slowly as Adam realized that Jordan was not angry with _him_ – relief, followed by a measure of shame at his own fearful reaction. The bruises from the last time – _And that really was the_ last _time_ – had faded away, concealed by his makeup until they disappeared; and Jordan hadn’t struck out at him since. Jordan had been very gentle and loving with Adam, and Adam was really trying not to be afraid anymore.

 

 _There’s nothing to be afraid of. He’s going to keep his promise this time. I_ know _he is. Everything is going to be all right._

Jordan crossed the room to stand in front of Adam, sliding his arms around his waist and pressing in close, and Adam moved his hands from behind his back, settling against the counter and tentatively returning Jordan’s embrace. Jordan met Adam’s gaze with solemn eyes, his voice low and reassuring.

 

“Now… don’t worry, okay? I already know how we’re going to deal with this, and you’re perfectly safe, but… well… there’s been another letter.”

 

Adam let out a weary sigh, a shiver passing through him with the unwelcome revelation. The letters were really beginning to freak him out, not only because of their content, but because of the fact that the culprit still had not been caught. If he had managed to evade the authorities this long, it meant that he knew what he was doing – and that meant that he was probably dangerous.

 

“It’s… worse than the last one,” Jordan admitted with an apologetic grimace. “You might not want to read it.”

 

“I don’t.” Adam looked away, shaking his head. “I’ve read enough of them already, I know the kind of stuff he says…”

 

“That’s… not the worst part of it, babe.”

 

The dread began to shift in Adam’s stomach, and he swallowed hard, his voice barely over a whisper when he spoke again. “What _is_?”

 

“Where I found it.”

 

Adam’s eyes widened with alarm. “Where?”

 

Jordan hesitated, his protective embrace tightening around Adam’s waist as he prepared to respond. He drew in a deep breath, hesitating before letting the words out in a rush.

 

“In our bedroom.”

 

Adam’s stomach leapt up into his throat. He felt sick. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “H-how… how did he get past…?”

 

“Our twenty-four hour guards? I have no idea,” Jordan replied with a grim shake of his head. “But I know how to make sure it doesn’t happen again. We’re going to tighten security, starting right now. Our hired security aren’t going to have access to the house without permission anymore.”

 

Adam frowned, troubled. “You don’t think one of them is involved?”

 

“I don’t know. But the way to find out is to make it so that I’m the only one with the security code, and they have to check with me in order to get it. I’ll change the codes every time someone uses them, so they can’t be re-used. That way, we know who’s coming into the house, and when and why. If one of them _is_ involved, then… the letters should stop. If not…” Jordan paused, shrugging slightly. “… then… we’ll have to look into other possibilities.”

 

Adam shuddered, instinctively drawing closer to Jordan, biting his lower lip anxiously.

 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Jordan murmured, leaning in close and brushing his lips against Adam’s cheek. “I’m going to make sure you’re safe, okay? I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

 

Adam gratefully let himself slip deeper into Jordan’s arms, drawing him closer with trembling hands as he leaned his head against Jordan’s shoulder.

 

“Okay,” he whispered, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

 

“Trust me, Adam,” Jordan softly urged him.

 

“I do. I trust you.”

 

“You’re safe with me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

Adam tried to believe Jordan’s promise, despite his lingering fears. He tried to put the frightening situation out of his mind and focus instead on the warm strength and comfort of Jordan’s arms around him.

 

 _It’s going to be all right. I’m safe here, with Jordan. He won’t let anything hurt me._

 _Everything is going to be okay._


	11. Chapter 11

Nearly a month passed for Adam and Jordan in a whirlwind of controlled chaos that was still relatively peaceful – at least on a personal level. Jordan was loving and supportive, never mentioning his feelings on Adam’s performance at the AMAs again, and Adam found himself grateful for his boyfriend’s presence when he’d come home from a long, grueling day in which he was forced to give interview after interview, most of which focused on that very subject.

 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Jordan reassured him gently each time, his arms around him, kissing him and holding him and enveloping him in the safety of his closeness. “It’ll all blow over, baby, and they’ll start asking about other things again. Just focus on the music, and they will, too. Just give it time.”

 

And within a few weeks, Jordan’s assessment was proven accurate.

 

Gradually, the probing questions on the controversy died off, and Adam began to _enjoy_ giving interviews again. He had several high profile interviews and performances scheduled, as well as appearances in three or four magazines, and things were beginning to look up for him again.

 

More importantly – things between Adam and Jordan were better than ever. Gradually, Adam began to relax, his fears slipping away into memories made vague and distant by his desire to forget.

 

One month after the AMAs, Adam was at his second Rolling Stone photo shoot, accompanied as usual by Jordan as his personal bodyguard. Of course, Jordan knew that the artistic aspect of Adam’s career was something he knew little to nothing about; so he kept his distance, hovering along the sidelines and watching with obvious pride as the photographer shot dozens of gorgeous pictures of Adam.

 

Adam was not so positive about the direction of this particular photo shoot.

 

For once, he wasn’t quite connecting with what the photographer wanted from him, and as the shoot stretched on a couple of hours later than it had been planned to, his frustrations mounted. Finally, the photographer announced that he had what he needed – but Adam suspected that the man had simply given up and decided to settle for what he had.

 

 _You used to be so good at this. When did you suddenly decide to_ suck? _This is just great. Your head’s not in the game today, and because of it your second Rolling Stone cover is going to be crap._

 

As they started toward the car, Jordan reached out a hand to rest near the base of Adam’s spine – a supportive and subtly possessive gesture that was common to him. Maybe it was because of his self-directed irritation, or maybe because of the fact that he wasn’t feeling particularly attractive at the moment; but regardless of the cause, Adam found the contact annoying rather than reassuring. Without thinking about it, he pulled away from Jordan’s touch, hastening his pace as they reached the waiting car.

 

Jordan said nothing, opening his door for him as usual and getting in on the other side. Adam’s nerves were taut and on edge, and when Jordan reached across the seat to take his hand, he felt his irritation increase. It wasn’t that his issues with the photo shoot were in any way Jordan’s fault, or that he was angry at _Jordan_ at all. It was the fact that at that moment, Adam simply wanted to shut himself away with his own thoughts, and Jordan’s hand on his felt like a demand – if a gentle one – to let him in.

 

Aware of how hurtful such a gesture would be, Adam refrained from withdrawing his hand until they reached their own driveway. His pace was quick and agitated as he preceded Jordan onto the porch – then had to wait for Jordan to catch up and enter in the security code. On the rare occasions when Adam went somewhere without Jordan, he would ask Jordan for the code – which changed at least daily at this point – but when they went together, he rarely bothered. Jordan could let them both in, and it was not an issue.

 

Today, it was just another source of impatient irritation for Adam.

 

Jordan was silent as he opened the door, and Adam stalked past him toward the stairs. Jordan caught up to him, reaching out to catch his arm in a firm but gentle grasp, turning him around and drawing him in close with his free hand.

 

“Adam,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Baby, what’s the matter? Slow down a second…”

 

Adam closed his eyes, his jaw working with frustration as Jordan’s hand moved slowly up and down his arm. Adam was usually very physically affectionate, but not when he was in this particular mood. When he was this frustrated and disgusted with himself, he did not want to be touched, much less fawned over as Jordan had such a tendency to do.

 

He endured it for a few moments before throwing his arms out and jerking free of Jordan’s unwelcome embrace, snapping with more venom than he had intended. “God, could you just _stop_? Just give me space to _breathe_ for a second, okay?”

 

He stomped up the stairs, leaving Jordan staring after him in startled dismay.

 

It was nearly half an hour later when Jordan appeared in the doorway to their room. Adam was sitting in front of the small vanity table across from their bed, staring morosely at his own reflection with which he was so displeased at the moment. When he met his boyfriend’s solemn, concerned gaze, he looked away with a heavy sigh, feeling guilty as he thought of his unwarranted actions downstairs.

 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he softly admitted, shaking his head. “I’m having a… a _really_ shitty day, and… and that’s not _your_ fault. I’m sorry.”

 

A sympathetic smile formed on Jordan’s lips as he crossed the room to where Adam sat, resting his large hands gently on Adam’s shoulders. This time, though he was still a bit on edge, Adam did not feel the need to pull away.

 

“I get it,” Jordan replied softly, meeting Adam’s gaze in the mirror. He paused a moment before observing, “You’re too hard on yourself, babe. You need to relax a little.”

 

“Yeah,” Adam sighed, rolling his eyes and averting his gaze. “Easier said than done.”

 

“I could help you,” Jordan offered, a vaguely suggestive note to his voice.

 

“Jordan, I’m sorry, but I’m not really in the mood for…”

 

“For a long… slow… massage?” Jordan cut him off, his voice low and enticing.

 

Adam looked up to meet his eyes in the mirror again, and he couldn’t help the reluctant smile that rose to his lips at the teasing smirk on his boyfriend’s face. The thought _was_ rather tempting.

 

“Come on,” Jordan murmured with an innocent little half-shrug. “Nothing in it for me. Just give me the chance to relax you a little.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Adam agreed at last, rising from the chair and turning to put his arms around Jordan’s neck and give him a brief, tender kiss. Jordan gave him a warm smile, then watched appreciatively as Adam took his clothes off and moved toward the bed. He lay down on his stomach, and Jordan carefully climbed onto the bed, his knees straddling Adam’s hips as his strong hands began rubbing slow, firm strokes up the line of Adam’s back.

 

Adam closed his eyes, sinking into the sensation as Jordan slowly, patiently worked the tension from his taut, aching muscles. He let out a soft, appreciative moan as Jordan’s fists kneaded deeply into the sources of the worst tension, with just enough pressure to bring about the _right_ kind of pain.

 

Jordan slowly worked his way up, leaning down over Adam’s prone body to apply pressure to his upper back and shoulders. By that point, Adam felt limp and drained, the obsessively vicious thoughts with which he’d been tormenting himself having faded away into peaceful blankness, his every awareness focused only on the pleasurable sensations Jordan was creating.

 

Jordan leaned down far enough that the fabric of his shirt brushed against Adam’s back, as he began to gently stroke from Adam’s shoulders to his neck, just above his collarbone. Adam arched his head back slightly to grant him better access, quiet sounds of approval escaping his mouth as a sated smile formed on his lips.

 

“You know I love you so much, baby,” Jordan whispered, his face so close that Adam could feel the warmth of his breath against his ear.

 

Adam let out a lazy hum of agreement, nodding slightly, feeling sleepy and distant.

 

“And I know you’re dealing with a lot of pressure… every day…” Jordan continued, his voice soft and even as he kneaded a little harder, his long fingers forming a loose circle around Adam’s neck. “I know… it gets stressful… and anybody’d… have a tendency… to lash out…”

 

Adam wasn’t really listening to Jordan’s words, tuning out anything resembling rational thought in favor of simply _feeling_.

 

Abruptly, the feeling turned from pleasurable and peaceful to painful and frightening, as Jordan’s hands closed more tightly around his throat, enough to restrict his breathing. Adam’s eyes shot open and he instinctively tried to raise his hands to ease Jordan’s grip; but Jordan easily slid forward and down a little so that his knees pinned Adam’s arms down to the bed, his grip tightening further, cutting off Adam’s air completely. He ignored Adam’s useless, panicked struggling, his voice now a sharp, menacing hiss in Adam’s ear as he continued, biting off the words with vindictive, restrained anger.

 

“… but if you _ever_ speak to me like that again, Adam…”

 

Adam’s lungs ached for air, terror closing in on him as he realized the helplessness of his position, panicked sobs rising up in his throat, but silenced by Jordan’s relentless grip. He desperately tried to free himself, but Jordan just jerked his head back, applying greater pressure in a silent warning, and Adam went still in his grasp, changing tactics and seeking to appease him if he could not overpower him. Jordan was unmoved, his lips brushing against Adam’s ear as he whispered a cruel threat that sent a shiver of dread down Adam’s spine.

 

“… I will kill you. Do you understand? I’ll _kill_ you, Adam.”

 

Adam tried to nod, though he could barely move his head at all, frightened tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. He was no longer struggling, doing his best to convey his submission without words, his lips forming a desperate plea he was not allowed to voice.

 

“ _Please… I’m sorry…_ please…”

 

Jordan’s fingers pressed harder into Adam’s throat, and bright bursts of color flashed before Adam’s eyes, fading slowly into blurred grey as he gasped for breath that would not come. At last, just when he was certain that Jordan was actually going to kill him – Jordan abruptly released him, allowing him to fall onto his face on the bed, drawing deep, sobbing draughts of air into his aching lungs.

 

Jordan got up from the bed, and Adam turned onto his side, facing him – afraid to have his back to him – shaking hands clutching at his bruised throat as he panted for the breath he’d been denied. He flinched when Jordan moved toward him again, gripping his hair and jerking his head back. His voice was frighteningly soft, controlled, as he spoke again, a cruel smile on his lips.

 

“I hope I’ve made my point, Adam.”

 

Adam nodded hurriedly, his wide eyes fastened on Jordan’s face in terror, his voice a hoarse, breathless rasp. “Y-yes… I’m sorry… please, Jordan, I’m sorry…”

 

“Shut up,” Jordan muttered in disgust, releasing him with a little shove before turning on his heel and stalking from the room, slamming the door behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

For the first time in their relationship, Jordan didn’t apologize for the incident of violence he’d inflicted.

 

A few hours after he choked Adam and threatened to kill him, Jordan behaved as if nothing had happened – and Adam went along with it. Jordan’s temper was becoming more and more volatile, and Adam knew that in a physical altercation, Jordan had the extreme advantage. He was taller and stronger, and trained in several forms of physical combat. The last thing Adam wanted to do was to anger him by bringing up the incident. No, there was only one thing he could do to resolve the situation.

 

Adam was going to have to stand by the threat he had made… and leave.

 

Unfortunately, that decision proved to be more difficult in action than in theory.

 

Over the next few days, Jordan went with Adam everywhere – to interviews, photo shoots, rehearsals. It wasn’t really all that unusual; Jordan _usually_ accompanied Adam everywhere. Adam just hadn’t realized how seldom he went anywhere on his own anymore, until he _needed_ to go somewhere alone, and found it nearly impossible to do.

 

When he was between events, Adam wanted to leave, but couldn’t without getting the security access code for the day from Jordan. He knew better than to ask for it without a valid reason to use as an excuse – knew that Jordan was smart enough to figure out he was being left if Adam wanted to go without telling him why – but any time he approached with a valid reason to go out, Jordan insisted on going with him “for his own protection”.

 

 _He’ll never just_ give _me the code. He’ll do anything he can to keep me from leaving,_ Adam realized with a sinking heart. _I have to just find a way to get the code on my own._

Adam knew that Jordan recorded the daily access codes in a logbook he kept in his office; but his office was always locked when Jordan was not in it, and only Jordan had a key. Adam racked his brain, trying to come up with a way to get the key without Jordan knowing, but with no success.

 

Finally, four days after “the incident” – which was the only way Adam could allow himself to refer to what had happened, even in his own mind – Jordan told him that he was going to hold a meeting of the household staff that afternoon. Adam’s household staff consisted of about a dozen people, and Jordan’s office was spacious enough, but still a little small for that many; so he had decided to hold the meeting in the parlor.

 

Adam calmly agreed to that idea, doing his best to show no interest either way – but his heart was pounding, his mind racing.

 

This was his chance.

 

With all of the staff assembled in one room, Jordan had no reason to lock his office door. Adam waited until the meeting had started to slip down the hall and around the corner, into Jordan’s office. His mouth was dry, his breath soft and shallow as he tried to be as quiet as possible, wanting to get in and out of Jordan’s office as quickly as possible, and undetected.

 

Adam hurriedly looked over the surface of Jordan’s desk, looking for the logbook, but it wasn’t there. He glanced anxiously over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming, before pulling open the narrow drawer in the center of the desk, finding nothing there, either. His stomach dropped when he tried the bottom left drawer and found it locked.

 

 _It’s in there. It_ has _to be in there. No, please let it be_ anywhere _but there…_

 

Suddenly, a messy stack of papers and folders at the corner of the large desk drew Adam’s attention. He began flipping through them, biting back an exultant cry of triumph when he found the book he was looking for. He looked toward the door again, listening for the sound of Jordan’s voice. He was still addressing the staff, his words muffled from the distance, but still clearly audible.

 

Adam opened the book and thumbed through it to the right page, tracing his finger down it to the correct date.

 

“ _Yes_!” he whispered when he saw the seven digit numerical code handwritten on the line beside the date. He repeated the number under his breath a couple of times, trying to commit it to memory – and immediately realized that he was too nervous to concentrate enough to memorize it.

 

 _And I can’t afford to forget it. I’ll never get in here to get it again._

 

Adam grabbed a post-it from the small pad on Jordan’s desk and quickly scrawled the numbers down with a pencil, shoving the tiny piece of paper into his pocket and slipping back out the office door – just as the sounds of the employees dispersing began to come from the parlor. Adam swallowed hard to dampen his dry mouth, carefully closing the office door again with a trembling hand and making his way down the hall toward the parlor, putting a bright smile onto his face for the sake of his employees – and his boyfriend.

 

“Hey, baby,” Jordan murmured, smiling when he saw Adam in the parlor doorway. “My speech too boring for you?”

 

Adam let out a nervous little laugh, uncertain at first whether or not Jordan was joking. “Yeah, I had better things to do,” he replied with deliberate, exaggerated arrogance when it seemed that Jordan was indeed joking.

 

Jordan’s eyes narrowed in an expression that was both amused and predatory, as he swiftly closed the distance between them, grasping Adam’s wrists and drawing them up over his head, pressing him back against the wall in one smooth, fluid motion. Adam drew in a sharp breath that caught in his throat, forcing himself to hold Jordan’s gaze as Jordan gave him a thoughtful, speculative look. A slow smile spread across Jordan’s lips, and he held Adam’s wrists pinned with one hand as his other trailed freely down Adam’s side in a lazily possessive gesture of affection.

 

Adam closed his eyes, letting out a soft gasp, biting his lower lip to keep from crying out. Suddenly, he was terribly, horrifyingly certain that Jordan _knew_ – that he was going to reach into Adam’s pocket and take out the piece of paper with the code on it, and then… _then_ …

 

But Jordan’s hand simply slid around Adam’s waist, drawing him closer as Jordan leaned in to kiss him softly, still keeping his wrists pinned over his head. Adam kept his arms lax and relaxed in Jordan’s grip, willingly responding to his kiss – eager both to keep Jordan distracted and to keep from arousing his suspicions. When Jordan ended the kiss, Adam opened his eyes, making sure to maintain eye contact – not wanting to appear as guilty as he felt.

 

Jordan smirked, clearly having misinterpreted Adam’s fearful reaction a few moments earlier for an entirely different reaction. He leaned in close to whisper against Adam’s ear, and Adam fought to repress the shudder that ran through him at the feeling of Jordan’s breath against his skin.

 

“You _never_ have ‘better things to do’… than _me_.”

 

Adam forced a soft little laugh, meeting Jordan’s eyes as he drew back again with what he hoped passed for affection. “Good point,” he whispered. He hesitated a moment, his eyes briefly downcast, before meeting Jordan’s eyes again from beneath lowered lashes to murmur a soft offer that he desperately hoped would be refused. “Wanna go upstairs now?”

 

Jordan’s smile widened and he leaned in to kiss Adam again before releasing him and allowing his arms to fall to his sides. Adam reached out to rest his hands casually at Jordan’s waist, giving him a questioning, inviting look.

 

 _Please say no, please say no…_

 

“You know I would, baby, but I’ve got so much work to do,” Jordan sighed, raising a hand to lightly stroke the backs of his fingers across Adam’s cheek. With an effort, Adam managed not to flinch. “A little later, okay? I’ll be… maybe an hour?”

 

“Okay.” Adam nodded with a soft smile, raising one trembling hand to cup Jordan’s against his cheek, gently lowering it. “I’ll be waiting.”

 

Adam waited – until Jordan disappeared into his office and closed the door behind him.

 

Then, he immediately went upstairs, being as quiet as possible. He threw a few things into the same bag he’d used a few weeks earlier, zipping it closed and heading for the stairs again. He held his breath, scanning the area for any sign of Jordan; but when he reached the hallway, Jordan’s office door was still closed, and the light was still on inside.

 

Adam walked into the kitchen, closing the door behind him and pressing the button on the intercom that would connect him with the garage behind the house. A moment later, a tinny female voice spoke over the tiny speaker.

 

“This is Julie, what can I do for you?”

 

Adam’s voice was hushed and a little shaky as he glanced warily toward the door again. “Julie, this is Adam. Can you please bring the car around? I need to leave right away.”

 

“Of course. I’ll be there in just a moment.”

 

Adam glanced toward Jordan’s office again as he slipped out of the kitchen and across the hall to the foyer. He glanced anxiously through the narrow windows at either side of the door, watching impatiently for the car. He took the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, reviewing the number while he tapped his foot, waiting. He moved closer to the window at the left of the door, looking out again and biting his lip nervously, wondering why the car had not yet appeared.

 

“What are you doing, baby?”

 

Adam heard the soft sound of his boyfriend’s voice, far too close behind him, at the same time as he felt Jordan’s arm slip around his waist. He drew in a sharp breath in alarm, spinning around to face his boyfriend, though there wasn’t much room to maneuver. Adam was trapped between the door at his back, and Jordan in front of him – so close that their clothes brushed together when Adam moved.

 

“Nothing,” Adam answered automatically, shaking his head. “Nothing, I was just… just wanted to… look outside…”

 

 _Where is that damn_ car? _What is taking so long?_

 

“I thought maybe we’d… maybe we’d go for a walk? When you got done working?” Adam suggested, his heart sinking as he took in Jordan’s narrowed eyes and calculating smile, and knew that he was not even remotely convincing Jordan of the innocence of his motives. “You know… if you want…”

 

Adam’s voice trailed off, his eyes widening as Jordan trailed one hand slowly down from Adam’s shoulder until it caught his wrist, raising his hand between them. Jordan squeezed Adam’s wrist until his trembling hand fell open, revealing the incriminating piece of paper it held. Jordan allowed Adam’s hand to fall, taking the paper and inspecting it, recognition dawning in his eyes.

 

He allowed the paper to fall to the floor, giving Adam a thoughtful, almost amused look. Adam felt sick, his stomach twisting with dread, his heart racing. He shook his head hurriedly, staring down at the piece of paper for a moment before meeting Jordan’s eyes.

 

“I-I wasn’t…”

 

The words had barely left his lips when Jordan lashed out, delivering a brutal backhand blow that slammed the back of Adam’s head into the door, at the same time splitting his lip and causing his vision to swim with dark spots of color. Before Adam could react, Jordan was right in his face, one strong hand cruelly clutching a handful of his hair, the other hand gripping his arm and slamming him forcefully back against the wall again.

 

“Please,” Adam gasped, terrified. “Jordan, please…”

 

“ _Shut up_!” Jordan snarled in his face, jerking his head back by the hair. “ _Shut up_ , you _stupid… lying…_ little _whore_!”

 

Jordan punctuated his words by gripping both of Adam’s arms and throwing him against the wall again, then driving a powerful fist into his stomach, causing him to double over in pain, one hand weakly raised in front of him in a gesture that was half defensive, half pleading.

 

“You think you’re gonna _leave_ me, Adam?” Jordan demanded, grabbing Adam’s wrist and pulling his hand away, viciously twisting his arm in the same motion so that Adam let out a choked, anguished cry of pain. “You think you’re gonna walk out on me, you _worthless little slut_?”

 

“No!” Adam tried to appease his enraged boyfriend, shaking his head, instinctively drawing back as far as he could against the wall. “No, I wasn’t… I’m not trying to…”

 

Jordan cut off his attempt at explanation with another breathtaking slap across his face, following it up with several more blows in quick succession – not giving Adam time to _breathe_ , much less recover from the force of his violent attack. Adam slumped to the floor against the door, half-kneeling, half-sitting – which only gave Jordan the access to kick him viciously in the stomach, knocking the breath out of him.

 

Jordan crouched in front of Adam, reaching out a single strong hand to wrap tightly around his throat. Adam’s eyes widened with panic and he raised a hand to try to dislodge Jordan’s, but Jordan’s free hand caught his wrist and cracked the back of Adam’s hand painfully against the door. Jordan’s knee rested against Adam’s other arm, pinning it back against the wall and rendering it useless. Adam bit back a cry of pain, shaking his head rapidly in a silent, desperate plea.

 

Jordan’s voice was softer now – and infinitely more terrifying – as he leaned in close to Adam’s face, his hand slowly tightening around his throat.

 

“You gonna lie to me again, Adam?” he asked in a tone of quiet, controlled patience. “You gonna tell me again that you _weren’t_ trying to leave me? With your packed bag sitting right here on the floor, and the combination to the door – the combination you _stole_ from my office – in your hand?”

 

Adam shook his head, gasping for breath against the restriction of Jordan’s hand. “N-no,” he whispered pleadingly. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Jordan, please don’t…”

 

Jordan lowered his voice to a menacing whisper, tightening his grip even further despite Adam’s pitiful pleas. “You think I’m going to let you just _leave_ me, Adam?”

 

Adam shook his head again, his eyes closed, his shoulders quaking with silent sobs. “No,” he whispered, barely more than mouthing the words. “No… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, _please_ …”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Jordan’s voice was soft, calm – and utterly effective. Adam fell silent, biting down on his lower lip to keep himself from crying out. Jordan smiled coldly into Adam’s eyes and tightened his grip on Adam’s throat until he couldn’t draw breath at all. Adam’s eyes widened with panic and he tried uselessly to free himself – before collapsing against the wall, submitting, trying desperately to somehow appease Jordan before it was too late.

 

“You listen to me, Adam,” Jordan whispered into his ear, not relenting his grip in the slightest, his voice hushed and intent, leaving no doubt as to his sincerity. “I will _kill_ you… before I’ll let you walk away from me. Do I make myself clear?”

 

Adam nodded frantically, gasping for breath that Jordan’s hand prevented. At last, Jordan eased his grip, leaving his hand resting loosely around Adam’s throat, but allowing him to draw breath. He smiled in amusement as Adam gulped in deep draughts of air, letting them out in tearing sobs of anguish and relief. He allowed his hand to fall away at last and rose slowly to his feet, turning toward the security box on the wall. Opening it, he made a very obvious display of changing the code, though he did not allow Adam to see what he changed it to.

 

Adam found himself wondering absently through the haze of pain and despair that slowly descended upon him, why none of the staff members in the house had seemed to hear the commotion, or be near enough to come to his aid – and why Julie had never shown up with the car. His eyes widened with horrified realization, as the pieces began to fall into place – and he began to see how utterly, horribly trapped he really was.

 

Adam leaned slowly back against the wall, drawing his knees up in front of him and wrapping his trembling arms around them. He closed his eyes and rested his head against his arms, feeling exhausted and drained and utterly confused – in shock. He felt dizzy and sick, every part of him in pain from the brutal beating he’d received. He flinched slightly, but didn’t dare pull away, when he felt Jordan crouch in front of him again, reaching into the pocket of Adam’s jeans and taking out his cell phone.

 

Adam looked up as Jordan stood again, his eyes wide and pleading, shaking his head slowly. Jordan looked down at Adam with something akin to sympathy, fingers threading gently through his hair in a twisted gesture of affection.

 

“You’re mine, Adam,” Jordan stated softly, emphatically – a simple statement of fact. “And you’re not going anywhere.”


	13. Chapter 13

When a prominent national charity approached Kris’s management about the idea of his performing with nearly a dozen other artists at a benefit for homeless children, Kris was instantly sold on the idea. The only question he had was who the other performers on the bill would be.

 

When they told him, however, he began to backtrack a bit, telling his management to tell the coordinator for the show that they’d get back to her. His publicist and scheduling manager were both irritated and confused, insisting that this was not only a great opportunity for positive exposure, but also a great honor that he’d even been asked. What reason could he possibly have for his hesitation? Kris had a reason, indeed, but not one he felt the need to share with anyone.

 

If he took the job, it would be the first time since tour that he and Adam had been asked to perform together.

 

 _And I won’t do it if he’s not comfortable having me there. He’s already confirmed, so if he says he’d rather I stayed away… I will…_

 

It had been over a year since the tour had ended, and Kris had made two or three calls in that time, wanting to try to mend the rift between himself and his former friend. However, each time he’d called, Jordan had answered the phone and made some thin, insincere excuse as to why Adam couldn’t come to the phone.

 

It was no different when Kris called about the benefit.

 

“I’ll ask him and get back to you. He’s _really_ busy at the moment. But we’ll let you know.”

 

There was a note of smug condescension in Jordan’s voice, as well as an edge of disgust – and a part of Kris understood it, even felt that he probably deserved it, at least in Jordan’s eyes. He had been so confused during tour, had given out such mixed signals and left Adam in such a vulnerable state, only to turn around and break his heart – to stay in a relationship that had ended three months ago.

 

His divorce had been final for only two weeks.

 

Katy had seen it long before Kris had a clue – the way Kris focused onto any details of Adam’s career that came his way… the way his attention would immediately be riveted to the television screen anytime footage of Adam came on…

 

… the way he gradually seemed to lose interest in her, in all the ways that mattered the most.

 

When she confronted him, bags packed in the hallway to go to her mother’s for a while, Kris insisted that she had it all wrong. He felt nothing for Adam but friendship, and was just bummed at losing the closeness they’d had. He loved her, and honored their marriage vows together, and would never leave her or be unfaithful to her.

 

Katy had sadly smiled, kissed his cheek, and softly explained, “I know. That’s why _I_ have to leave _you_.”

 

She had been gone for a few days when Kris realized that she was right. He missed her, of course, but it was not the same as the deep, longing ache he’d felt for Adam for over a year now. Kris regretted hurting Katy, regretted hurting Adam, but most of all, regretted not figuring out what he felt until it was too late for anything to exist between himself and Adam.

 

Jordan returned his call, much to his amazement, to tell him that Adam was perfectly fine with their performing together. _“Why wouldn’t he be? Anything that happened between you two is ancient history. Doesn’t matter to him anymore.”_ Kris tried not to let his hopes rise too high. After all, Adam had been with Jordan for over a year now; he had to be reasonably happy with him, or he wouldn’t have stayed for so long.

 

Still, Kris couldn’t help thinking that, since Adam did not seem willing to speak with him on the phone, perhaps this concert would give him the chance to talk to Adam in person, and at least make right his past wrongs.

 

 _Maybe… maybe we can at least be_ friends _again…_

 

******************************************

 

The evening before the concert, the charity hosted a dinner for all of the performers. Kris rarely got nervous before a show anymore, and he was not nervous about the concert the next night – but he was _terrified_ about the charity dinner.

 

It was going to be the first time he’d seen or talked to Adam in over a year.

 

Before dinner, the guests mingled with the press in a special lounge area reserved for them, giving brief interviews and posing for pictures.

 

The entire time, Kris was hyper-aware of just where in the room Adam was at every moment. He was distracted as he gave out the typical sound bites about his new album that was about to be released and smiled for the cameras, his thoughts focused on finding a way to talk to Adam privately.

 

It wasn’t going to be easy. As usual, Adam was surrounded by people.

 

Kris kept an eye out, watching as Adam’s boyfriend leaned in to speak softly into his ear, one large hand cupping the back of his neck in a possessive gesture that did strange things to Kris’s stomach. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him. Adam didn’t seem to mind, and the gesture was clearly one of intimacy and affection.

 

 _And if anyone has the right to be possessive with him, it’s his boyfriend…_

 _And… maybe_ that’s _the problem._

 

Whatever Jordan said to him, Adam nodded and smiled before turning and heading toward the bar, while Jordan continued to talk to one of the event coordinators. Kris hesitated a moment, glancing between Adam and his distracted boyfriend, before making a quick decision.

 

 _This might be the only chance I get…_

 

He slipped through the crowd, politely evading several people who wanted a few minutes of his time, as he made his way to the bar, where Adam was patiently waiting for the drinks he’d requested. Kris froze momentarily, his mouth dry and his heart accelerating with uncertainty and apprehension.

 

Now that the moment he’d been anticipating had arrived – he had no idea what to say.

 

He forced himself to speak anyway, before the moment slipped away from him.

 

“A-Adam?”

 

Adam turned to face him – his eyes going wide and his smile fading into a startled expression when he saw who was standing behind him. He sounded genuinely surprised that Kris was speaking to him, his voice hushed and a little wistful.

 

“Kris. Hey. How are you?”

 

Kris winced inwardly at the sound of the same polite, practiced pleasantry he heard in Adam’s voice during every television interview he’d ever given. It hurt to think that he’d been relegated to that status, from the depth of friendship they’d once shared – even if it had been his own choice that had caused it to happen.

 

“Um… good, I guess…” Kris stumbled over his words, looking down at the floor for a moment before taking a step closer to Adam, leaving only a couple of feet between them. “Adam… listen… do you have a minute?”

 

“Uh… okay.”” Adam hesitated, and Kris couldn’t miss the reluctance in his tone. “Wh-what’s…?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Kris blurted out the words before he could stop himself, his voice trembling with emotion. Adam’s lips parted with surprise, a moment before his expression softened slightly, and Kris thought he could detect the faintest shimmer of tears in his eyes.

 

“I’m really sorry, Adam,” Kris repeated. “I was an idiot…”

 

“No, it wasn’t just you,” Adam insisted, the façade falling away in an instant and, to Kris’s immense relief, revealing the same open, honest friend he’d known so well so long ago. “I was a jerk, too. You… you tried to make things… not awkward, and I…”

 

“I was stupid to think they _wouldn’t_ be awkward, after what I… I just… I’m _sorry_ …”

 

“Well, it’s not like you had a choice. You’re a married man. You have obligations, and I shouldn’t have expected you to just…” Adam’s voice trailed off uncomfortably, and he waved a dismissive hand, rolling his eyes at himself. “You were right. Nothing to be sorry for. And it all worked out for the best, right?”

 

Kris frowned slightly, confused. Surely Adam had heard about his and Katy’s divorce. It had been all over the press for the last few months.

 

But then, Kris found himself falling into the familiar warmth and openness in Adam’s eyes, reminded that Adam was still waiting for a response, and momentarily set aside his questions. He was touched by Adam’s willingness to forgive and set aside their past issues so quickly, and frankly surprised by it after the distance Adam had insisted upon for so long.

 

 _Maybe he just wanted to wait until we could talk in person…_

Kris swallowed hard, struggling to speak past the lump in his throat, a suspicious stinging sensation behind his eyes. His voice was low and hoarse with emotion when he spoke again.

 

“Adam… God, I’ve _missed_ you!”

 

Impulsively, Kris moved forward and wrapped his arms around Adam in a warm hug. For a terrible moment, Adam froze, neither moving away nor responding, and Kris thought he might have made a terrible mistake. Then, just when Kris was about to pull away, Adam’s arms were around him, holding on with a fierce desperation that left Kris breathless, a deep ache building in his chest at the sheer intensity of the moment. Adam lowered his head, his cheek resting momentarily against the top of Kris’s head, whispering soft words that Kris barely made out.

 

“I’ve missed you, too… _so much_ …”

 

When they finally broke apart, Adam left his hand on Kris’s arm, seemingly unwilling to completely break contact. There were tears in his eyes, and he shook his head with a self-deprecating smile as he raised a hand to brush them away, confessing softly, “I’m just so glad you’re here.”

 

Kris knew exactly how he felt. He was overwhelmed with the warmth of relief and affection for the friend he thought he’d lost. After so much tension and hurt, a simple apology was all it took for them to fall back into the comfortable ease and security of their past friendship. The connection between them had snapped back into place, and Kris wanted nothing more than he wanted to just forget about the charity dinner and spend the rest of the evening alone with Adam.

 

“I have so much to tell you about,” he confided with a rueful grin. “We’ve really got to catch up…”

 

“I know, me too,” Adam agreed with a nearly giddy grin, gently squeezing Kris’s arm where he held it. “It’s been so long… I just wish we could…”

 

Abruptly, Adam’s voice trailed off as he glanced over Kris’s shoulder, and his face turned pale, his eyes wide and his smile falling away. Kris felt a cold chill sweep over him as Adam suddenly took a backward step away from him, removing his hand from Kris’s arm and instead gripping his own forearm in a subconsciously defensive gesture.

 

“Adam? What’s wrong?” Kris asked with concern.

 

He glanced over his shoulder, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Across the room from them, Jordan was engrossed in conversation with one of the event officials. There was no one else that Kris recognized in the general direction in which Adam had been looking. He turned back toward Adam, shaking his head in a bewildered question.

 

“What?” he repeated. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Adam insisted, nodding hurriedly. All at once, the false cheer and too-bright smile were back in place. “Yeah, everything’s fine, I just… I think I should probably be making the rounds, you know. The whole ‘shameless self-promotion’ thing.”

 

“You can spare a few minutes, right?” Kris was confused, and a little hurt. “I mean… we do these things all the time. A few minutes isn’t going to…”

 

“Maybe tomorrow after the show we’ll get some time?” Adam suggested, picking up the two waiting drinks from the bar and edging past Kris, clearly eager to go. “I… I need to get this drink over to Jordan, and I… I really need to go. I just… It was great to see you.”

 

Kris turned to watch in stunned confusion as Adam backed away a couple of steps before turning and crossing the room as if he couldn’t get away fast enough. Kris’s brow creased in a troubled frown as Adam made his way directly to Jordan’s side with the drinks.

Jordan didn’t even look up as Adam approached, didn’t stop talking as he took one of the glasses from Adam’s hand, slipping his free arm around Adam’s waist and drawing him close in a gesture that seemed automatically, thoughtlessly possessive. Kris couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but once again something about the scene left him feeling uneasy and a little sick. It didn’t make sense, and he couldn’t explain it, but a single thought kept playing through his mind.

 

 _Something is very wrong here…_


	14. Chapter 14

“Hey, babe. You ready?”

Adam jumped slightly at the sound of Jordan’s voice from the doorway of their bedroom, then relaxed, giving his boyfriend a smile that was warm and welcoming, if a bit nervous.

“Almost. Five minutes.”

Adam turned to face Jordan, glancing self-consciously down at his outfit and holding out his hands in a questioning gesture. Jordan gave his outfit a brief, critical perusal.

“Change the shirt. Too much.”

Adam nodded, unquestioning, and shrugged out of his jacket to pull the shirt off over his head as he made his way to his closet to pick something else out.

“The blue, shiny one would look great with that jacket, babe.”

“Okay.”

 Adam obediently reached for the shirt Jordan had suggested. He had just finished buttoning it when he felt Jordan’s arms slip around him from behind. He turned to face his boyfriend, his eyes wide and uncertain. His lips parted to speak, but he closed his mouth without saying a word, visibly hesitant.

“What?” Jordan’s voice was soft, soothing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Adam replied, looking away for a moment before reluctantly meeting Jordan’s eyes again. “I just…”

Adam couldn’t bring himself to voice his concerns. He had been surprised when Jordan had encouraged the idea of Adam’s doing the show with Kris the following night. It had been weeks, and Adam still found it difficult to believe that, as jealous and possessive as he could be, Jordan was willing to allow Adam to spend even a little bit of time with the last man he’d loved – even if that love had been far from mutual.

“I’m just… a little nervous, I guess. I don’t know.”

“Hey,” Jordan soothed him, running a gentle, affectionate hand through Adam’s hair before tracing his hand around to cup the back of Adam’s head and turn his face up for a soft kiss. “You’re going to do great, baby. You’re amazing – and tonight, everybody’s gonna know it.”

Adam’s face lit up, eyes shining with relief at Jordan’s approval. “Thanks,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“I love you, Adam,” Jordan murmured before kissing him again. “Don’t forget – I’m right behind you, baby. I love you so much.”

Adam felt his heart swell with the warmth of Jordan’s pride and affection, drinking it in with near-desperate thirst. It seemed that Jordan was so often angry with him, so often found reasons to criticize and berate him, that his words of praise and encouragement were craved and cherished in the rare instances when Adam received them. Adam tried his best to please Jordan and keep from angering him, but it seemed that he always managed to find some way to fail.

To his immense relief, the last month or so had been rather good for them.

 _If you can just keep things up like this… just keep making him happy… everything’s going to be okay. Just don’t do anything stupid. Don’t blow it – and it will all be all right._ __

*************************************

 _Stupid, you stupid, pathetic idiot, you blew it… what were you_ thinking? _You wrecked it, you screwed it all up, and now he’s going to… God, what’s he going to_ do? _Please… please, no…_

Adam’s mind was racing with panic as he and Jordan left the benefit dinner that night. Jordan hadn’t shown any overt signs of anger, or spoken a word about Adam’s brief conversation with Kris. Still, Adam knew him well enough to know that his quiet calm disguised a raging fury that was just waiting to be unleashed upon him as soon as they were somewhere private, away from the prying eyes of any curious onlookers.

Adam braced himself as the car door closed behind him with a little more force than necessary, expecting Jordan to yell at him as soon as he got in on the other side. He tensed as Jordan reached toward him – but all Jordan did was to put a casually affectionate arm around Adam’s shoulders and draw him in close to his side.

At the door, Jordan stopped to speak to the night security guard, giving Adam an innocuous smile and softly instructing, “Go on upstairs. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Adam’s legs shook beneath him as he made his way up the stairs, feeling sick with dread that was only intensified by Jordan’s controlled façade of gentleness. He knew he had not imagined the look of jealous fury in Jordan’s eyes when he’d caught his gaze across the room earlier that night. He knew that Jordan was not so forgiving as to let it go without so much as mentioning it.

In their bedroom, Adam took off his jacket and briefly inspected his reflection in the mirror, running a trembling hand through his hair, only half-succeeding in breaking the hold of the product he’d used for the appearance that night.

 _Jordan likes it better messy and natural…_ __

One moment Adam was staring at his own reflection, barely restrained panic in his eyes – and the next Jordan was behind him, one arm snaking possessively around his waist and drawing him back against Jordan’s larger frame. Adam tensed at his touch, still expecting pain – then forced himself to relax a little as Jordan’s free hand cupped his hip, his thumb rubbing slow, suggestive circles through Adam’s jeans.

 _Maybe… I misread him. Maybe he’s not mad. Or maybe… maybe I can distract him…_ __

Adam turned in Jordan’s embrace, giving him a slow, seductive smile, looking up at him from beneath lowered lashes. He rose up on his toes, one hand daring to grasp the back of Jordan’s neck and tug him down for a slow, leisurely kiss. He felt Jordan’s lips turn up in a grin before he opened his mouth and accepted Adam’s advances, his arms shifting around him and pulling him in closer. Adam broke the kiss at last, breathless, his lips parted slightly, suggestively, as he trailed his hands down Jordan’s sides and began to slide to his knees, never breaking eye contact.

Jordan’s hand fell to play through Adam’s hair, further loosening the stiffly formed style, working through the strands with his fingers as Adam gently mouthed the swelling bulge in Jordan’s pants through the soft fabric.

“Adam,” Jordan murmured, his voice hushed and hoarse with desire. “You always know just what I want, don’t you? Always know… what _everyone_ wants…”

Alarm bells went off in Adam’s head, an instant before Jordan’s hand tightened in his hair, painfully jerking his head back as Jordan crouched in front of him, nearly at eye level. The cruel, knowing smile on Jordan’s lips revealed that the dangerous game they’d been playing had come to a swift end.

Jordan was no longer playing.

“You’re so clever, aren’t you, Adam?” Jordan sneered, shaking him slightly by the grip he maintained on Adam’s hair, his smile widening when Adam winced and bit back a cry of pain. “Such an expert little _whore_. You think you can play me so easily?”

Adam tried to shake his head, on the verge of panic, his lips parted to deny it, though he couldn’t seem to make a sound past his own terror.

“You think you can fool me? Use sex to make me forget about what a stupid little _slut_ you were tonight?”

Adam flinched as Jordan jerked his head back so far and so hard that for a panicked moment he thought his neck might break. “Please,” he managed to choke out, breathless and frantic. “Please, I’m sorry…”

Jordan’s free hand gripped the back of Adam’s neck, drawing him in close to speak low and cruel next to his ear, a vicious smile twisting his lips. “No – for that to work, you’d have to have something more to offer than a fat, ugly, disgusting little whore who puts out for anyone who pays him a little bit of attention. Wouldn’t you?”

Adam nodded automatically, desperately, knowing better than to argue, no matter what it was that Jordan was saying. His face flushed with humiliation at the cruel words, and he felt stupid and pathetic for ever thinking that his weak ruse might work.

He flinched, raising both hands in front of him in pleading defense as Jordan rose and jerked him to his feet as well, shoving Adam backward hard so that he stumbled into his vanity table, sending various bottles and other items crashing to the floor. Jordan quickly closed in on him, gripping his throat with one hand and pushing him back against the mirror.

Adam raised his hands automatically, then quickly gripped the edge of the table to restrain his natural instinct to resist. He had learned long ago that trying to fight back only made things worse. Jordan could not tolerate having his control challenged even in the most basic and instinctive of ways. Adam’s hands shook where he gripped the edges of the table, its drawer shaken open by the force of Jordan’s attack.

“Please,” Adam sobbed, shaking his head slowly, pleadingly. “Jordan, I’m sorry… please, I’m sorry…”

Jordan ignored his pleas, demanding, “You think you’re gonna leave me now, Adam? Now that your precious Kris is single again?”

Confused, Adam frowned, shaking his head again. “Kris is… _what_? I didn’t know…”

“ _Liar_ ,” Jordan hissed in disgust.

He released Adam’s throat – only to slap him across the face with enough force to drive his head back against the mirror and send lightning streaks throughout its surface as it cracked beneath the impact of the blow. Jordan hit Adam in the face once more before again locking one unyielding hand around his neck and slowly squeezing the breath out of him.

Panic seized Adam as he felt his air being cut off, and he gasped out a pitiful, submissive plea. “Jordan, please… please don’t… please… the show…”

Twice in the last six months, Adam had been forced to cancel performances due to severe bouts of “laryngitis” – brought on by Jordan’s frightening tendency to prove his utter and complete control over Adam by choking him until he begged for his very life. Once, Jordan had refused to relent even then. Adam had passed out, coming to a few minutes later to find a panicked, terrified Jordan who was desperately relieved, having been momentarily convinced that he had killed him.

Adam was terrified that one day, Jordan _would_.

“The _show_?” Jordan echoed with a taunting sneer, not relenting his grip at all as he leaned in close to Adam’s face. “Maybe it’d be better if this particular show was cancelled – you think? Maybe it’d keep you from getting the chance to spread your legs for Kris Allen! That’s what you’re hoping for, right? You’re hoping you’ll catch him while he’s free, and forget all about the one who was there for you when he _broke your heart_! The one who picked up the pieces when he left you a _pitiful, useless wreck_!”

Adam was crying by this point, shaking violently as he struggled to draw breath past Jordan’s torturous grip on his throat. “Please,” he sobbed out, the word nearly soundless. “Jordan, please… I wouldn’t… I d-don’t want… anyone but you… _please_ …” He paused, fighting for the breath to go on. “I’ll s-stay away from him… I’ll do… anything you want… _please_ …”

Jordan was silent and still for a long, terrifying moment – before he gradually eased his grip, moving his hand away from Adam’s throat and running it slowly through his disheveled hair. Adam tried not to flinch away from the incongruously gentle touch, but couldn’t quite manage it. Jordan didn’t seem to notice, or care, as his eyes narrowed speculatively. Adam didn’t dare look up at him, keeping his head submissively bowed and his trembling body obediently still, his white knuckles still locked around the edge of the vanity table.

“No, you’re right,” Jordan agreed at last, softly. “You’ve lost too many shows lately due to your own bad behavior and stupidity.”

Adam flinched, eyes closed, biting his lower lip until he tasted blood to keep back the useless, babbling pleas that filled his mind – pleas that he knew would likely only make things worse at this point.

“You’re going to do that show tomorrow night,” Jordan continued with frightening control in his soft words, his hand still stroking Adam’s hair with possessive affection. “You’re going to speak to Kris Allen no more than is absolutely necessary… and you’re going to _try_ not to humiliate me _too_ much… _if_ that’s possible.”

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Shut up.”

Adam fell silent, blinking back tears, his eyes carefully downcast.

“And I’ll try to remember,” Jordan went on softly, “that you are sometimes unbearably stupid… and need a little reminding now and then… of what kind of behavior is acceptable and what is not.” Jordan paused, one dangerously gentle hand tilting Adam’s chin up in a silent command to meet his eyes. Adam obeyed, chilled and terrified by the cold, cruel intent he saw in Jordan’s eyes as he concluded in a near-whisper.

“And I’ll try to give you that reminding… without leaving any marks where anyone will see.”

Without warning, Jordan slammed the vanity drawer shut on Adam’s hand, crushing his fingers with brutal force. Blinding agony shot from Adam’s shattered hand up his arm and radiated throughout his body, and he collapsed as his legs gave out beneath him. He gasped for breath that was stolen from him by the intense, searing pain, as Jordan moved back to allow him to fall to his knees beside the vanity. Jordan’s mouth twisted with vicious determination as instead of releasing Adam’s injured hand, he only pushed the drawer closed harder, eliciting a strangled sob of agony from Adam’s lips.

He leaned down close to Adam’s face, one hand gripping his chin and forcing his head back against the vanity so that he could meet his eyes as he spoke again.

“You’re _mine_ , Adam. Don’t forget that again.”

Finally, he released the pressure he was exerting against the drawer, allowing it to open. He stalked from the room, leaving Adam huddled on the floor, cradling his shattered, swelling hand and staring in horrified shock as the damaged skin slowly faded to dark, livid purple. Violent tremors of shock and terror shook through him, as a litany of savage self-accusations filled Adam’s mind.

 _All your fault… stupid whore… things were good until you had to go and piss him off again… couldn’t keep him happy for more than a couple of weeks, could you, you useless, stupid piece of shit?_ __

_One day he’s going to kill you… and it’s going to be all your fault…_


	15. Chapter 15

Adam stared down at the tiny piece of leather in his hand, biting his lower lip – and trying to steel himself for the pain.

He winced as he glanced at the livid purple bruising that covered his left hand, all the way from his wrist to his knuckles. He was almost sure that more than one of the fragile bones beneath the bruised skin was broken and would need to be set – but that would have to wait until after the show that night.

 _Have to hide it. Can’t let anybody see…_ __

Adam’s right hand already bore the mate to the black leather fingerless glove it held. Jordan had _suggested_ that Adam wear them tonight to keep anyone from noticing his injury. They covered his fingers past the knuckles, and would completely conceal the bruising. Adam usually wore them anyway, so no one was likely to think anything of it.

Except, usually, Adam wasn’t in agonizing pain and trying to force the tight leather over damaged flesh and shattered bone.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry with fear at the very thought. The show was in less than two hours, and Jordan would be upstairs any minute to see if he was ready to leave for the venue. He had put this off as long as possible, and was completely ready, except for this one last thing. His hand throbbed already; he could barely imagine the agony of trying to put on the glove, much less bring himself to actually do it.

 _Just have to suck it up and do it,_ he told himself, biting the inside of his lip and drawing in a deep, shaky breath. _Just have to get through it – to get through tonight, and stay away from Kris, and then everything will be okay. If I can avoid him through the show tonight, and after, then I won’t have to see him, won’t have to talk to him again, and Jordan won’t be jealous, and everything will be okay again…_

“Hey, baby. Having trouble?”

Adam tensed, his breath leaving him momentarily and his stomach lurching with fear as Jordan slipped up behind him, one arm wrapping around his stomach and drawing Adam back against Jordan’s chest. Adam was trembling, his muscles taut in instinctive preparation to either fight or flee – an instinct that he had learned to suppress.

He nodded, closing his eyes, not trusting himself to speak.

Jordan’s free hand trailed slowly up and down Adam’s left arm in a possessively affectionate gesture as he pressed a slow, leisurely kiss against the side of Adam’s throat. Adam automatically tilted his head to the side, allowing Jordan better access.

He knew better than to do otherwise.

Jordan drew back after a moment, his voice hushed and coaxing in Adam’s ear. “Let me help you with that.”

Adam shivered as Jordan removed his arm from around Adam’s waist and slid his hand down Adam’s arm to his wrist, then firmly turned him around to face him. Adam hesitantly met Jordan’s calm, speculative gaze for a moment before staring down with barely concealed apprehension as Jordan took the glove from Adam’s open palm. Adam flinched, gasping softly as Jordan raised his injured hand between them, calmly inspecting it with a critical frown.

“This looks bad,” he remarked, shaking his head in an expression of sad disapproval.

He offered no further comment, no apology – he never did anymore – and Adam felt the full weight of Jordan’s displeasure. Feeling irrationally guilty, he swallowed hard, stuttering out a hesitant response, unsure of what Jordan expected of him.

“I-I’m sorry…”

Jordan waved the hand that held the glove in a dismissive gesture, shaking his head again. “It’s over, Adam,” he said with a weary sigh that only added to Adam’s sense of guilt and embarrassment about the whole situation. “What’s done is done… and it’s not going to happen again.” Adam winced, his stomach lurching with panic as Jordan’s grip on his wrist tightened slightly. Jordan’s voice was soft, his gaze piercing, demanding, as he quietly added, “Is it?”

Adam shook his head rapidly, wide eyes locked onto his damaged hand, held vulnerable in Jordan’s firm grasp. “No,” he whispered, a pleading tremor in his voice. “No… _please_ …”

“Shhh…”

Jordan soothed him, barely brushing his thumb across the surface of Adam’s injured palm. The barest beginnings of a grim, calculating smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he carefully eased the leather over Adam’s trembling fingertips. As he worked with cautious, gentle precision, he spoke in a quiet voice with a razor edge of subtle warning, making it terrifyingly clear to Adam that his gentleness could become cruelty at a moment’s notice.

“Easy, baby. You have nothing to worry about, do you? Because… you’re going to be very good tonight. You’re going to stay away from Kris… and you’re going to perform your heart out on that stage… and then we’re going to come home, and it will all be over. I’ll call a doctor in to check out your hand…”

Jordan paused, concentrating as he carefully worked the fingers of the glove over Adam’s knuckles. Adam flinched at the unavoidable pain as his injured hand was encased in tight leather, biting back a whimper and closing his eyes, turning his head away. Jordan was silent until he had fastened the strap around Adam’s wrist. When he was finished, he tilted Adam’s head back toward him with one hand in a silent command for Adam to look at him.

Adam obeyed, eyes wide and pleading as Jordan’s thumb and forefinger closed around his wrist so that Adam’s shaking palm rested against his. Jordan’s eyes were narrowed, a slight smirk on his lips, and there was no mistaking the threat in his eyes and actions as he continued.

“… you’ll tell him you slammed it in the car door. That’s exactly what it looks like. He’ll believe you… and we won’t have to deal with any nasty rumors… or _Kris Allen_ …” He fairly spat Kris’s name out with distaste, and Adam tensed as Jordan’s grip on his wrist tightened slightly. “… and we can just put this whole ugly affair behind us. All right?”

“All right,” Adam repeated with eager obedience, nodding pathetically, desperate to prove his submission. “Wh-whatever you think is best, Jordan. I’ll do whatever you say, just please… please don’t…”

His words broke off in a soft, breathless cry of pain as Jordan folded his fingers around Adam’s damaged hand with just enough pressure to be painful. Adam didn’t dare pull away, but his legs went weak and he doubled over slightly, gasping for breath. Jordan’s hand came to rest at the side of his neck, holding him in place as Jordan backed Adam up the couple of steps it took to put him against the wall. Adam flinched at the slight impact, biting back the fearful, pleading sob that rose to his lips.

“Shut up,” Jordan ordered in a soft, cold voice of terrifying control. “You had better keep it together better than this tonight, Adam. Do you understand me?”

Adam nodded hurriedly, his eyes downcast, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Jordan moved in a step closer, his face inches from Adam’s as he continued in a low, almost gentle tone of warning.

“Because if you let anyone know about this tonight, baby, next time – you won’t be able to hide what I do to you. Are you understanding me, Adam? Am I being clear enough for you?”

Adam’s insides felt weak and trembling as he obediently nodded, struggling to bring his pain-induced panic under control. Jordan’s hand rose to stroke slowly and soothingly through Adam’s hair, and he eased his grip on his hand, pressing in close against Adam and kissing him gently but with unmistakable possession and dominance in the kiss. Adam’s trembling lips parted willingly, yielding to Jordan’s advance, until Jordan finally drew back to meet his tear-filled eyes with a reassuring smile.

“Just do what I tell you, Adam. Just let me get us through this night without finding a way to ruin it for us – and everything will be just fine.”

*****************************************

Kris barely slept the night before the show, unable to shake the uneasy sensation that had accompanied him home from the charity dinner. He knew that something was not right with Adam, but he couldn’t quite figure out what. Adam had seemed fine one moment – laughing and reminiscing with him as if not a single day had passed since the days of their friendship on Idol – and then, his demeanor had changed in an instant. He had gone from happy and carefree to tense and fearful.

 _But… fearful of what? Or… who?_ __

Kris went to the venue early to be sure he would have time to talk to Adam, and quickly got ready in his dressing room. Once he was ready for the show, he ventured out into the hall and did a little exploring, speaking briefly to a couple of the other artists who were preparing for the concert in their own dressing rooms, all the while looking for the room that was Adam’s.

When he finally found it, it was locked, and no one answered when he knocked.

He turned away, disappointed – just in time to see Adam and Jordan headed toward him down the hall. Kris’s face lit up in a smile – which quickly faded at the flash of panic he saw in Adam’s eyes when they met his own. It was only there for an instant before Adam averted his gaze, shutting Kris out – but it had been long enough for Kris to see it.

“Adam, hey!” He kept his tone cheerful and light as he walked toward them. “What’s up?”

Adam nodded in greeting, but his smile was tense and closed off, and he wouldn’t meet Kris’s eyes. “Hey.”

Kris frowned, stopping and turning to follow them as they passed him and reached the dressing room door. Kris glanced down at Adam’s hand, which was trembling as he unlocked the door.

“Adam…?”

Before he could continue, Jordan moved to stand between Kris and Adam, his imposing bulk blocking Adam completely from Kris’s sight. “We’re running late, Kris, sorry,” Jordan informed him with an insincerely apologetic smile. “Maybe after the show.”

Kris opened his mouth to object, but Adam had finally managed to get the dressing room door open, and Jordan followed him inside and promptly shut the door in Kris’s face. Kris blinked, startled by the abrupt manner in which he’d been treated. He considered knocking and insisting on talking to Adam, but thought better of it.

 _Maybe he was just acting last night. He certainly has the experience for it. Maybe he was trying to keep things from being awkward, trying to act like everything’s okay… but maybe he really doesn’t want to talk to me…_ __

It was a depressing thought, and Kris felt a sick, sinking sensation in his stomach as he turned and walked away, troubled and trying to figure out what had just happened. He had just rounded the corner toward his own room, however, when he heard a door opening down the hall. He waited a moment before peering around the corner, wondering if perhaps Adam had changed his mind.

Jordan’s back was turned to him as he made his way down the hall in the opposite direction at a swift, purposeful pace. Kris bit his lip, frowning with hesitation as he considered the situation for a moment – then made his decision.

 _Seems like every time Adam doesn’t want to talk to me… Jordan’s around. Maybe while he’s gone…_ __

He waited until Jordan was out of sight to return to Adam’s door and knock softly. After a moment, Adam opened the door – and stared at him through wide, slightly panicked eyes, his lips parted though he didn’t seem capable of making a sound at the moment.

Kris was more worried than ever by Adam’s reaction, and more determined than ever to find out what was going on.

“Hey...”

Kris offered Adam a warm smile as he stepped past him into his dressing room. Adam made no move to stop him, and Kris turned to face him, his hands self-consciously shoved into his pockets. He gave Adam a wry smile and a slightly apologetic half-shrug as he offered a bit too late,

“Mind if I come in?"


	16. Chapter 16

Adam just stood there staring at Kris for a long time, his mouth opening and closing to speak, though he didn’t seem to know what to say. Kris felt the unease that had been building within him since the previous night intensify at the unmistakable panic in Adam’s wide gaze. Finally, Adam found his voice, but his words did nothing to alleviate Kris’s fear and confusion.

“Kris… you have to go. _Now_.”

Kris frowned, hurt and frustration creeping into his voice as he demanded, “Why? I thought you wanted to catch up tonight. Isn’t that what you said?” He paused, his voice softer, more vulnerable, when he added, “Last night… you said you forgave me…”

“I do,” Adam cut him off impatiently, a note of desperation in his voice. Kris was troubled to note that Adam seemed unwilling to look him directly in the eye. “I do, Kris, I just… I just have to get ready for the show, and…”

“You look ready to me,” Kris countered, venturing a smile of amusement despite his apprehension, seeking to somehow break through Adam’s defensive demeanor for long enough to figure out what was going on. “What else do you have to do to get ready for the show?” Kris paused, but not long enough for an answer. The guilty, uncertain expression on Adam’s face was answer enough. “Adam…please.” Kris’s voice was low and pleading as he reached cautiously toward Adam’s gloved, trembling hand. “ _Talk_ to me.”

Kris had barely touched him when Adam jerked his hand away as if seared by the brief contact, a startled gasp of alarm escaping his lips. Kris glanced down suspiciously at the hand he had touched as Adam cradled it in his other hand, taking a self-conscious step backward and averting his gaze again. Kris noticed that he kept glancing anxiously toward the door, his voice uncharacteristically unsteady, carrying a note of panic.

“Kris… no. Please just… would you please just _go_? I know I said we could catch up, but… but I’m not sure I’ll have time, and I don’t have time _now_ , so I’d really just like you to… to leave. _Please_.”

Despite himself, Kris felt anger rising up to join his confusion and hurt feelings. His eyes narrowed with suspicion and he slowly crossed his arms over his chest, his legs stubbornly set in silent indication that he had no intention of going anywhere just yet. His voice was quiet and intent as he studied Adam’s face, watching for any sign of a reaction.

“Does this have anything to do with Jordan?”

Adam’s eyes shot up to his for just a moment, but even so briefly, Kris could not miss the stunned, trapped expression there. Adam forced a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head, crossing his arms defensively as he retorted.

“What are you talking about? Why would it have anything to do with…?”

“Does he not want you talking to me?” Kris guessed, aware and unsurprised that he had struck a nerve. “Is that it? Is Jordan the jealous type?” A mirthless smile touched his lips as he went on, “Because the Adam Lambert _I_ knew would never let his _boyfriend_ dictate who he is and isn’t allowed to talk to.”

Adam still didn’t look at him for a long moment, a slow swallow visible in his throat as his jaw worked with the struggle to repress… _something_. Then, Adam’s piercing gaze shot up, eyes flashing fire as they locked onto Kris’s face – and suddenly, Kris had no problem distinguishing what it was that Adam had been trying so hard to hold back. Bitter fury flared in Adam’s gaze as he unfolded his arms and took a couple of slow steps closer to the spot where Kris stood. His voice was low and trembling as he closed the distance between them.

“Well, maybe you didn’t know me as well as you thought you did.” A cold smile formed on his lips, but it did nothing to cool the resentment in his eyes. “How could you have, when the first time I tried to be _really_ open with you and let you know how I felt, you shot me down so fast I barely had time to get the words out? You couldn’t get me to shut up fast enough! It seems to me that you really don’t care to know me at all, do you, Kris Allen?”

There were wide, gaping holes in the logic of Adam’s argument that Kris could have latched onto and thrown back at him in an instant if he’d chosen to. However, Kris couldn’t seem to focus on forming any kind of rational argument – couldn’t think past the raw, open _hurt_ in Adam’s voice. It didn’t matter that Kris had been married at the time, or that Kris had tried to make things right between them immediately after the incident. All that mattered was the knowledge of how deeply Kris had _hurt_ Adam, and that knowledge turned the blood in his veins to ice water, while at the same time covering him with a wave of hot, shameful regret for the pain he’d put Adam through – the pain that he apparently still carried, logic and reason be damned.

“So… when you said you forgave me,” Kris slowly surmised, no accusation in his voice. “You were lying. You don’t.”

He didn’t blame Adam for not forgiving him. He’d certainly given out his share of mixed signals during tour, leading Adam to believe that there might have been a chance for something between them, regardless of his marriage vows.

“No,” Adam agreed softly, his eyes averted again, suddenly much calmer. Kris had expected the answer, but it still knocked the breath from his lungs like a blow. “No, I don’t.”

There was nothing to say in response to that. Kris just stood there dumbly for a moment, feeling a cold emptiness steal over him with the knowledge of something he had believed to be true for over a year now – the knowledge that he had well and truly _lost_ the best friend he would ever have. Kris had assumed that for the past year, but had allowed himself to hope again the night before.

It felt like he was losing Adam all over again.

“So… if you wouldn’t mind.” Something uncomfortable and self-conscious had stolen back into Adam’s voice, replacing the fire of his anger, and filling the air between them with a bitter tension. “Just… please go. Get out.”

Kris stood there a moment longer, vainly seeking something he could say that could fix this – that could give them a chance to be friends again.

When he found nothing, he turned with quiet resignation and made his way out of the room.

****************************************

Adam felt as if he was losing Kris all over again, as Kris turned and silently walked out the door.

At the same time, he felt an overwhelming wave of relief. Every second that Kris had spent in his dressing room, Adam had been terrified that Jordan would return to find him there. It hurt him to hurt Kris – to use harsh words and cruel accusations to drive him away – but he had no other choice.

 _If Jordan found him here… if he caught me alone with Kris… he’d kill me. He might even hurt_ Kris. _I had to make him leave… no matter what it took to do it…_

It was soon apparent that Adam had managed to get Kris to leave just in time.

Kris had barely been gone a minute when Jordan returned.

Adam’s heart leapt up into his throat, panic creeping in as he wondered how far Kris had gotten before Jordan had entered the hall outside his room.

 _If Jordan saw him there… if he saw him coming from the direction of my room… God, what if he knows?_

But Jordan was calm, smiling and cheerful as he crossed the room to where Adam stood, slipping an arm around his waist and leaning in to give him a light, affectionate kiss to his temple. “Twenty minutes ‘til show time,” he announced brightly. “Ready?”

Adam forced a matching smile to his lips, nodding in response as he did not trust himself to speak. Jordan took Adam’s shoulder and steered him around to fully face him, looking deep into his eyes with an expression of warmth and affection before tilting his head up to kiss him again, this time on the mouth with slow, leisurely intimacy. He drew back, his voice hushed and filled with excited anticipation as he offered encouraging words of support.

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead tonight, babe.”

And as usual, Adam did.

Kris did, too, and Adam’s heart ached at the reminder of the performances they’d shared on tour – how well they’d played off each other despite the tensions between them – how they’d step onto the stage, and everything would fall away except the lights and the music and each other, and the mutual love they shared for the _music_.

Adam desperately wanted that back.

He wanted _Kris_ back.

 _Not that you ever had him in the first place,_ Adam reminded himself as he made his way back to his dressing room after the show to change and wait for the doctor Jordan had promised. _Shouldn’t be able to miss something that you never had._

 _So why do I miss him so much worse now than I have for the last year?_

Adam collapsed gratefully into the chair in front of the mirrored vanity table that had been provided for him. The usual adrenaline rush of enjoyment that accompanied each show he performed had been dampened by the anguish of his injured left hand. There had been moments during the concert – sweet, soaring moments when the music and emotion had taken him over, and he could think of nothing else – when the pain had faded into the background of his consciousness.

Now that the show was over, however, it was difficult to focus on anything else.

He closed his eyes, folding his arms and resting his head on them on top of the vanity table, half-listening to the sounds of Jordan’s conversation with one of L.A.’s numerous private doctors – those who catered to celebrities who wanted to avoid both the lengthy waits and the media attention involved with a simple trip to the emergency room.

This particular doctor had been called to Adam’s home in the middle of the night on numerous occasions.

“Yes, in the car door. We think it might be broken.” Jordan was quiet a moment before letting out a soft, rueful laugh. “Yeah, I told him he needs to be more careful. Thank you very much, doctor. We’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Adam didn’t bother to raise his head or even move as he heard Jordan’s cell phone snap closed, followed by the quiet sound of his footsteps approaching. The familiar feeling of Jordan’s hand on his shoulder was oddly comforting given the pain he was in.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes,” Jordan explained unnecessarily. “I thought it’d be better to have him come here. Let the paparazzi speculate as to which of the performers he’s here for, rather than have him come to the house and see it all over the tabloids tomorrow.”

“Mm-hmm.” Adam nodded into his arms before reluctantly raising his head and leaning back in his chair so that his head rested against Jordan’s stomach. He met his boyfriend’s eyes in the mirror, putting as much gratitude as he could muster into his expression, given the fact that it was his boyfriend’s doing that he needed the doctor in the first place. “Thanks,” he murmured. “My hand is killing me.”

Jordan let out a sympathetic tutting sound, reaching down to cautiously lift Adam’s damaged hand from the table. Adam immediately tensed, bracing himself for pain, even if it was unintentional, as Jordan gave the injured hand a critical look, though he couldn’t see it through the tight black leather that bound it.

Without warning, Jordan’s hand clenched tightly around Adam’s, crushing it in his strong grasp. Adam let out a choked cry of startled anguish, trying in vain to pull his hand away. Jordan only tightened his grip, his other hand falling to cover Adam’s mouth and silence his scream of agony, drawing his head back and holding it in place against Jordan’s stomach. Adam met Jordan’s eyes in the mirror, panicked and pleading though forced to silence.

Jordan’s mouth twisted into a grimace of vindictive fury as he twisted his hand, increasing the pressure he was exerting, and Adam’s eyes rolled back momentarily as the excruciating pain nearly overwhelmed him. Jordan eased up at last, crouching down behind Adam so that their faces were next to each other, still maintaining his vicious grip on Adam’s hand.

“Oh, come on, Adam,” he softly scoffed, a smirk of cruel triumph on his lips as he spoke close to Adam’s ear. “You didn’t _really_ think I didn’t know?”


	17. Chapter 17

Panicked, Adam struggled to speak past Jordan’s firm hand over his mouth, shaking his head in pleading desperation. Jordan shook his head as well, though the motion was slow and warning as he met Adam’s eyes in the mirror.

“Shhh,” he warned him. “Quiet.”

He removed his hand from Adam’s mouth as he rose to stand up straight – then abruptly jerked Adam out of the chair and onto the floor by his agonizing grip on his damaged hand. The pain was so intense that Adam couldn’t _breathe_ at first, let alone cry out, as Jordan grabbed his arms, jerking him up and flinging him into the wall with breathtaking force. Before Adam could move, Jordan was in his face, clutching his arms again and pinning him there, staring at him with a cold, knowing smile of accusation as Adam struggled to catch his breath, overwhelmed with pain and panic.

“I saw him leaving, Adam,” Jordan informed him, though Adam had already come to that conclusion. “I know you’re still trying to find a way to get rid of me and be with _him_ – aren’t you?”

“No,” Adam sobbed soundlessly, shaking his head, his words coming with trembling, breathless desperation when he finally found his voice. “No, Jordan, it w-wasn’t like that… please…”

Adam’s words broke off in a cry that he bit back himself, as Jordan’s hand flew back in preparation for a brutal backhand blow – that never fell. Adam stood waiting in dreadful tension as Jordan slowly lowered his hand, edging in nearer so that there was no space left between them. Adam felt claustrophobic, trapped and terrified, as Jordan held him back against the wall, one hand loosely, warningly, at Adam’s throat. His voice was low and leading, frighteningly soft.

“No. No, we won’t do this now. The doctor’s on his way. No reason for us to make a scene, is there, Adam?”

Adam shook his head, his breath ragged and shallow as he struggled to keep up with Jordan’s dangerously shifting mood.

“No, you’re just going to keep your mouth shut and convince the doctor that you slammed your hand in the car door. And when he leaves, and we have the rest of the night to ourselves… _then_ … we’ll _talk_ about this.”

Adam nodded obediently, sick with dread, as Jordan released him and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Overwhelmed with pain and fear, Adam sank to the floor, his knees drawn up in front of him as he huddled against the wall and waited in helpless despair for the doctor’s visit and the following conversation.

He just hoped that conversation would end with him still conscious… and breathing.

***************************************

The concert had been over for nearly an hour. The fans had all left the venue. The staff were beginning to tear down the stage equipment, as the last of the promoters and managers and coordinators made their way out of the building. All of the appropriate hands had been shaken, business cards exchanged, and autographs signed.

And yet… Kris could not bring himself to leave – not with things the way he’d left them between himself and Adam.

 _He made it perfectly clear, he doesn’t want to talk to you._ Kris paced frenetically back and forth in his empty dressing room, warring with his own desires, and the frustration of knowing that there was nothing he could do about them. _Just quit making a fool of yourself by hanging around where you’re not wanted, and go home. You missed your chance, Kris Allen. You turned him away – and who can blame him if he’s not taking you back with open arms?_

But when Kris’s thoughts drifted back toward the night’s performance, and the sweet nostalgic memories it had roused, he couldn’t help but think that maybe – _maybe_ there was still a trace of hope. The way he and Adam still played off each other on the stage – the perfect sense of connection and timing that he was certain was a result of the close bond they had shared while on Idol – it was still there, no matter how hard they had both tried, at different times, to deny it.

 _I have to try one more time,_ Kris decided. _I just have to go back and try once more to talk to him. Maybe they’ve already left – and if they have, then that’s a sign. But if they haven’t – and if Adam will give me just a couple of minutes –then_ maybe _there’s still a chance._

Kris tried to steel himself for another rejection as he made his way down the hall toward Adam’s room. He was so focused on trying to figure out what he could say to change Adam’s mind that his heart leapt up into his throat in startled fright when the door to Adam’s room abruptly opened, the strains of voices flowing out into the hallway. Without really knowing why he felt the need to hide, Kris jumped backward into the open doorway of one of the other recently vacated dressing rooms, standing against the wall and listening to the conversation taking place in the hall.

“… should be all right in a couple of weeks. Fortunately it’s just a hairline fracture. Could have been much worse. But you should still come in to see me in about a week, and let me make sure it’s healing properly.”

“Thank you, Doctor…” Kris’s heart ached at the familiar sound of Adam’s voice, sweet and warm with genuine gratitude. “I appreciate your coming out here for me. I’ll call you later.”

 _Doctor?_ Kris frowned, troubled and concerned for his friend. _Why does Adam need a doctor?  
_  
Kris held his breath at the sound of footsteps heading in his direction, relaxing slightly as the sounds passed him and faded away down the hall. He listened for the sound of Adam’s door closing again, then slipped down the hall to stand outside his door – where he abruptly lost his nerve.

 _Didn’t hear Jordan’s voice – but that doesn’t mean he’s not there. He’s almost_ always _there, it seems. And if he is in there with Adam, then he’s not going to be happy about my showing up like this._

Kris raised his hand to knock on the door, hesitating – then freezing completely, eyes widening with horror, when he heard the sound of a muffled cry of pain from the other side of the door.

***************************************

The door had barely closed behind them when Jordan turned to face Adam, without warning or hesitation delivering the savage blow he’d restrained earlier. The back of his fist fell with a blinding crack across Adam’s face, sending him staggering backward into the wall, struggling to maintain his balance. In the process, he accidentally knocked his fractured hand against the corner of the vanity, and let out a startled cry of agony, nearly collapsing from the searing pain.

Jordan was immediately upon him, one hand clutching his throat and cutting off the breath he needed to scream, the other falling upon his face in a resounding slap before grabbing a handful of his hair and shaking him hard.

“Shut up, you stupid little slut!” Jordan hissed in his face, and Adam flinched, choking back a cry of pain, but didn’t dare try to break his hold. “You really can’t do _anything_ right, can you? Unless you just did exactly what you _meant_ to do. Are you trying to draw attention to us, Adam? Are you _trying_ to get someone to come in here and see what you make me do? Is that it?”

Adam shook his head frantically, gasping for breath, his good hand rising in instinctive reaction to weakly grasp Jordan’s arm, in a gesture that was more a plea for him to ease his grip than an attempt to force him to do so. Even so, Jordan glared at Adam’s hand, a single brow raised in warning, and Adam swiftly lowered it, his shoulders shaking with panicked sobs that he couldn’t draw breath to release.

“Shhh,” Jordan soothed him, even as he tightened his hand at Adam’s throat, shifting in closer to him. “I’d like to let you go, Adam, but I can’t trust you to keep your mouth shut, can I?” His voice was softly menacing, patronizing, as if Adam were a very small, very stupid child. “I can’t trust you at all. Every time I turn my back, you’re sneaking around behind it like a filthy fucking _whore_.”

Panic closed in with the edges of grey, sparkling light that began to obscure Adam’s vision. His lungs burned for air, and he could feel himself losing control, losing _consciousness_.

Jordan leaned in close, a malicious expression of anger and contempt in his narrowed eyes. “Maybe I should just put us _both_ out of your misery, you think? End this once and for all.”

“ _Please_ ,” Adam gasped out as his legs gave out beneath him and he began to sink to the floor, staring up at Jordan through wide, pleading eyes. “Please, don’t… please _stop_ …”

Adam saw Jordan’s lips moving, but couldn’t make out the words – as if he was hearing him from underwater. And then, his vision faded out as well, as he felt himself drifting into nothingness.

A moment later, the air came rushing back into his lungs as Jordan’s bruising grip was abruptly removed. Sparks of dark color flashed before Adam’s eyes as his vision began to return, and he heard the sounds of a commotion in the room around him. The first thing he noticed was the bright light streaming into his room from the hallway – through the open door.

 _Who… who opened the door?_

“Are you out of your _mind_? Don’t you _touch_ him…!”

 _Kris… God,_ Kris!

Adam tried to rise to his feet but found that he was too weak. His good hand clutched his aching throat as he struggled to form words that wouldn’t seem to rise above a hoarse whisper.

“Jordan… Jordan, _don’t_ …”

It was too late.

Kris seemed unconcerned with the dramatic difference in their size and strength, and had rushed forward to Adam’s defense, grabbing Jordan’s arm and attempting to pull him away from Adam. Jordan’s response was to lash out with a heavy fist across Kris’s face, sending the smaller man flying backward toward the doorway. Adam watched with dismay as Kris started to come back inside – then thought better of it and turned to call down the hallway.

“Security! Help, quick! _Security_!”

Almost instantly Jordan was in Adam’s face again, clutching his jaw and forcing him to make eye contact as Jordan glared at him with intent, deadly menace in his eyes. His voice was low and commanding, sending a shiver of dread down Adam’s spine.

“You will keep your mouth shut, do you hear me, Adam?” he demanded, and Adam nodded automatically. “You won’t say a word, because if you do, I swear I’ll kill you, do you understand? I’ll kill you… and I’ll kill _him_. I am not fucking kidding, Adam. Not a single word.”

Adam nodded hurriedly, drawing in a soft, shuddering breath as he struggled to regain control of himself. Jordan pulled him up onto his feet, steadying him against the wall and wiping tears and blood from his face with a tissue he’d taken from the vanity. Jordan quickly poured him a cup of water, urging him to drink it despite how painful it was, in the hopes that it would soothe his damaged throat and allow him to speak somewhat normally. By the time Kris returned with two security guards on his heels, Adam had almost regained his composure.

“… _choking_ him. He could have killed him! And then he hit _me_ , and as much as it made me wanna kill the guy, I knew _I_ couldn’t take him, so…”

Kris’s voice trailed off as they entered the room, and he rushed toward Adam’s side. “Adam, are you…?” His voice trailed off and he froze when Adam withdrew from him in alarm, not looking at him. “Adam?”

“Mr. Lambert, are you all right?” one of the guards asked, moving past Kris to stand between Adam and Jordan, glaring suspiciously at the larger man. “Are you hurt? Mr. Allen says this man was hurting you…”

Adam swallowed hard, suppressing the wince of pain that accompanied the gesture. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “No, he didn’t…”

“ _What_?” Kris was incredulous, horrified. “Adam… what the _hell_?”

“Are you sure?” the guard pressed, taking in the red spot near Adam’s eye that would be a bruise within a few hours, the smudge of blood at the corner of his mouth. “You _are_ hurt. If he didn’t do it, then what happened?”

“I… I… my hand is… i-injured,” Adam stammered, glancing uncertainly toward Jordan before quickly looking away at the warning look Jordan gave him in return. “I… accidentally hit it on something and… and fell, and… Jordan was helping me. Kris… he must have… have misunderstood what he saw…”

“No,” Kris insisted, shaking his head emphatically. “No. I _know_ what I saw. He was _choking_ him. He… he must have threatened him.”  
Kris waved a hand in Jordan’s direction, his voice rising with his urgency to help Adam and his knowledge that the chance seemed to be passing him by. “He’s just scared to say anything, but… you guys have to know he’s lying!”

“I’m not,” Adam insisted, his eyes downcast, unable to meet Kris’s gaze. “He… he didn’t hurt me.”

The guard warily regarded Adam a moment longer, then glanced toward Kris before giving Adam a questioning look. “What about Mr. Allen? Did you see what happened? Did your boyfriend hit him?”

Adam’s guilt was an almost physical weight, keeping his eyes down and filling his throat so that he couldn’t speak, though his lips parted to respond.

“Come on. What did you see?” the guard pressed him. His words were impatient, but his tone was gentle. “Did you see him hit Mr. Allen?”

Adam swallowed again, his gaze locked onto the carpet at Kris’s feet. Finally, he shook his head, replying in a voice barely over a whisper. “N-no, I… I didn’t see anything. I… don’t know.”

“He hit me all right,” Kris confirmed, his voice low and dark, and Adam couldn’t bear to face the disappointment he knew he’d see on Kris’s face if he looked. “But that’s not even close to what he did to Adam. I’m telling you, I _saw_ it. He was choking him.”

“He’s insisting that didn’t happen.” The guard sighed, clearly frustrated and not believing Adam any more than Kris did. “There’s not much we can do if the alleged victim is claiming nothing happened.”

“There has to be some way…” Kris’s voice rose in frustration. “Security cameras, or _something_?”

The guard shook his head with an apologetic grimace. “Not in the dressing rooms. Are you kidding me? Lawsuit waiting to happen.” He sighed, glancing back toward Adam before meeting Kris’s eyes again. “We can call the police if you want them to check this out, and the state will press charges if there’s actual evidence of domestic violence, but… if the alleged victim insists that nothing happened, then… then there’s not much chance of any actual charges being filed.”

“Yeah, well…” Kris paused, considering a moment before looking up to meet the guard’s eyes. “I’m ‘alleged victim’ number two – and I’m telling you what _did_ happen: he _definitely_ hit _me_. There’s no question of that. “ He paused, his jaw set with determination as he glared at Jordan and continued. “So, yes. Call the police. I _definitely_ want to press charges.”


	18. Chapter 18

The security guards did not have the authority to arrest anyone, but Kris’s accusation of assault gave them the grounds they needed to prevent Jordan from leaving long enough for the police to get there and investigate further.

To Kris’s great frustration, however, they could do nothing to keep Jordan away from Adam during that time.

Adam refused to speak to Kris, avoiding eye contact and tensing up any time Kris ventured near him, so eventually Kris gave up and kept to his own side of the room while they waited for the police. Still, as he watched Jordan sitting there with a possessive arm around Adam, stroking his hair idly and speaking softly into his ear as if he _hadn’t_ nearly killed him just a few minutes earlier – and as he watched Adam submissively accepting Jordan’s attentions, quietly nodding every now and then in obedient response to whatever Jordan was saying to him – it was all Kris could do not to cross the room and make another vain attempt to knock Jordan’s head off.

Kris couldn’t stop watching them as he waited, watching for any slight trace of evidence that might help to prove what he’d seen.

He still had a hard time believing it himself, and he’d seen it with his own eyes.

 _How could Adam let this guy treat him like that? It doesn’t seem like him to put up with anybody’s crap, let alone actual physical_ abuse _from the guy he’s_ dating! _How long has this been going on? Why is he covering for him? I just wish he’d_ talk _to me…_

Kris frowned, troubled as Adam turned toward Jordan, eyes wide and uncertain, and began to speak. Before he could say a word, however, Jordan’s arm around him tightened slightly, and Adam’s gaze fell away, along with whatever he had been about to say. Kris’s stomach clenched as for just the briefest instant, Adam’s eyes darted toward his, and he saw the unmistakable flash of fear there before he looked away.

 _He’s so freakin’ scared of this guy. He’s not going to let me help him – not going to say anything at all – as long as Jordan’s around._ __

Kris resisted the recurring urge to attack Jordan, well aware that he was physically no match for the much larger man, and that he would do Adam no good by getting _himself_ arrested as well as Jordan. His best chance was to keep a cool head, control his emotions, and wait until the police took Jordan away.

 _I just have to get Adam alone._ __

_Then, maybe –_ maybe _he’ll talk to me._

******************************************

Adam felt like he was going to be sick.

He was acutely aware of Kris’s scrutiny from across the room, as well as the more-than-physical weight of Jordan’s possessive arm around him. He was trying his best not to let the fear and uncertainty he felt show to Kris or the security guards waiting with them, but just the knowledge of how closely his every move was being watched was enough to keep him on the brink of panic.

Jordan’s soft warnings in his ear were not helping, either.

“Just stay calm, baby,” he whispered, his hand playing idly through Adam’s hair. “Just stick to the story, no matter what they ask you. The most they can do is keep me over the weekend, and then I’ll be out and I’ll be home again.”

Adam nodded, swallowing hard. His mouth was dry, his throat aching from Jordan’s bruising grip. Suddenly, a new problem occurred to him, but he was hesitant to question Jordan at all in his current frame of mind, though he knew his boyfriend knew better than to try anything in front of witnesses. Of course, those witnesses didn’t make things any easier. Adam was acutely aware of their presence as he turned to face Jordan, barely meeting his eyes before looking down. His voice was hushed and submissive when he finally ventured to speak.

“Jordan… how am I gonna… I mean… I need the… the code…”

Jordan’s hand slid down from his hair to rest at the back of his neck, squeezing just slightly. Adam immediately fell silent, biting his lower lip and suppressing a flinch. His stomach lurched with dread as Jordan leaned in close to speak directly into his ear, his voice low and soft so that no one else could hear. His gentle, soothing tone was unchanged, but the words he spoke were laced with searing, bitter poison.

“No, you don’t. You can go home when _I_ go home, Adam. Until then – you can get a hotel room.” His grip tightened slightly on the back of Adam’s neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down Adam’s spine as he continued , his voice soft but cruel, “I’m probably going to spend at least a night in jail because of your _adorable_ little boy toy over there. For all I care, you can sleep in the street like the filthy whore you are.” He pressed a tender kiss to Adam’s temple, turning his head slightly to meet his eyes. His face remained set in a calm, affectionate smile, though his eyes glittered with steely warning meant only for Adam’s eyes. “You brought this on us, Adam. This is your fault. So you’d better just keep your mouth shut and try not to do anything too stupid while I’m gone… and hope I’ve cooled down by the time I get home.”

Adam employed every trick he’d ever learned in his acting career to keep from allowing his fear to show. He could feel desperate, panicked words on the tip of his tongue and strove to hold them back and respond to Jordan’s soft threats with a warm smile, leaning his head forward to rest his brow against Jordan’s broad shoulder. He desperately wanted to be able to take comfort from the strength of Jordan’s arm around him – but he knew that at the moment, Jordan’s affection was nothing more than an act.

If they had been alone, Adam was almost certain that he wouldn’t even be conscious anymore by this point.

 _You might not even be_ alive _at this point – if Kris hadn’t come in and stopped him… and you lied to the security guards… lied to protect Jordan. Kris has every reason – every right – to hate you now. Couldn’t blame him if he just… just gave up and walked away in disgust._

 _So… why is he still here?_ __

*********************************************

Kris was relieved when the police showed up and separated the three of them, two officers taking him and Jordan each to separate rooms to question them, while a third remained with Adam in his dressing room. Yet another talked with the security guards to find out how much they’d seen. Throughout all four interviews, the officers kept each other updated with their handheld radios.

Kris eagerly showed the officer questioning him the swiftly forming bruise on his face, the blood on his lip, reiterating the fact that Jordan had given those injuries to him.

“You can arrest him, right? You can take him in? I want him in jail. I don’t think I’ll feel safe if he’s not.”

“Yeah, we can take him in,” the officer confirmed. “He’s claiming that you attacked him first – but there’s not a mark on him. You obviously didn’t do him any damage – couldn’t have…”

“Thanks.” Kris’s tone was flat and mildly sarcastic, but he was grinning as he said it, too thrilled with the officer’s answer to worry about his less-than-flattering comment. “You’re right, though. I couldn’t take him in a fight. There’s no way. I will definitely sleep better tonight knowing that he’s in jail.” He was quiet for a moment, his smile fading and his tone becoming solemn as he insisted quietly, “I know he hurt Adam. He was choking him. There have to be bruises on him by now. Isn’t there anything you guys can do…?”

“Adam is still maintaining that you saw it wrong, and his boyfriend didn’t hurt him. If they’re both insisting it didn’t happen, there’s not much we can do, I’m sorry.”

“But… you _can_ take him to jail for the night.”

The police officer gave Kris a conspiratorial smile, nodding. “I can do you one better than that. It’s Friday night. We’ll take him in, and he won’t be able to post bail until Monday.” He paused, and when he continued, his words echoed the hopeful thoughts circling through Kris’s mind. “That’ll give you a couple of days to work on your friend – try to get him to come forward with the truth about what happened.”

Kris nodded slowly, accompanying the officer back toward Adam’s dressing room – just in time to see two of the officers leading Jordan away in handcuffs. He glanced at Adam over his shoulder, calling out to him in a tone of calm resignation.

“It’s going to be fine, babe. I’ll call you as soon as I can. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Adam whispered.

Watching helplessly, one hand nervously working the fabric of his opposite sleeve, he had a lost, wide-eyed look about him as he sank slowly into the chair in front of his vanity table. He flinched when one of the remaining police officers placed a cautious hand on his shoulder, then forced a smile as he gave the man an expectant, questioning look.

“Is there anything else we can do for you, Mr. Lambert? Do you need a ride home, maybe? Or…”

“I’ll make sure he gets home all right.”

Several pairs of curious eyes turned toward Kris as he spoke up, none more startled than Adam’s by his offer. Surprise quickly shifted toward panic, however, and Adam shook his head hurriedly.

“N-no… no, I’m okay. I have our car. I’ll be fine…”

“Well, we have your statements. We’ll be going now, but someone will be in touch to let both of you know the status of the charges against the defendant. If there’s nothing else we can do, you gentlemen have a good night.”

The officers left, leaving Kris and Adam in the dressing room, alone with nothing but the tense, awkward silence that descended between them. Kris caught Adam’s gaze, his lips parted to voice a question for which he couldn’t quite find the words. Adam abruptly looked away, swallowing hard. He rose to his feet, gathering his things hurriedly and stuffing them into the small bag he usually brought to his shows.

“I need to go home,” he muttered, heading toward the door.

Kris caught his arm, stepping deliberately into his path. His eyes widened with dismay when Adam flinched, pulling away from Kris’s touch – but in the process causing his sleeve to be pushed up a few inches, and revealing a fading bruise on his forearm. Adam took a backward step, quickly adjusting his sleeve again, then clutching at it, tugging it downward in an unconscious fidgeting motion as his eyes darted around the room, focusing on anything they could find that was not Kris’s horrified gaze.

“Adam… what did he do to you?”

Adam’s jaw worked with barely repressed emotion, and he bit his lower lip as if to physically hold back his answer – though Kris wasn’t sure he’d know how to answer, anyway.

They both knew he wasn’t just asking about tonight.

“Kris… I just want to leave. Please, just… please just go home. You’ve done enough damage tonight.”

Kris’s eyes widened, his voice indignant. “ _I’ve_ done enough _damage_? Adam, he could have _killed_ you!”

“You’re over-reacting,” Adam insisted, forcing a dismissive laugh. “I don’t know what you _think_ you saw, but it wasn’t like that…”

“ _Adam_.”

There was a wealth of knowledge and emotion in the simple word, and Kris’s tone stopped Adam’s protests in their tracks. He fell silent, his eyes locked onto the floor for a long, weighted moment of silence. When he finally looked up to meet Kris’s eyes, his own were wet with unshed tears. His voice was hoarse, barely over a whisper, when he ventured a halting response.

“You… you don’t understand…”

“I _want_ to, Adam. Please. I just want to… Why don’t you just _talk_ to me?”

Adam shook his head, looking away again. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I just can’t.”

Kris was quiet for a long time, struggling with his own frustrated desire to protect his friend – and finally surrendering to the knowledge that this time, no one could help Adam but _Adam._ If Adam refused to tell him the truth about what Jordan had been doing to him, nothing Kris could say would force him to talk about it.

“Okay,” he relented at last. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Adam. Not if you don’t want to. But – but please – don’t push me away again. Okay? I… I’m still your friend. I want to be here for you, even if you don’t want to talk to me. Will you at least let me do that?”

Adam looked up at him again, fear and uncertainty mingled with longing in his eyes. He bit his lower lip, letting out a shaky, halting breath.

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight, Adam,” Kris insisted gently, taking a cautious step closer to him. “You said your… your hand is hurt, and… and you might need help with… something…” he vaguely pointed out with an apologetic half-shrug. He knew his argument was weak, but he was grasping at anything he could find that might convince Adam to let him stay. “Just let me… let me stay with you tonight? Let me keep you company?” He paused, offering a tentative smile. “You _did_ say we could take the time to catch up.”

*****************************************

Adam hesitated.

He knew what Jordan would say – would _do_ – if he knew that Adam was even _considering_ going anywhere with Kris.

 _But… maybe Jordan doesn’t have to know…_ __

The cold, creeping sense of loneliness that had stolen over him when Jordan refused to give him the code to get into his own house had intensified during the police questioning, and Adam felt scared and empty and alone. He didn’t know where to go, or what to do. Jordan had controlled his every move for so long that now, in Jordan’s absence, he felt lost and bereft, and terribly confused.

 _It would be so nice to not be alone tonight… to just talk with Kris like we used to…_ __

_And… Jordan wouldn’t ever have to know…_ __

_But… Kris probably just wants me to tell him what happened, and… and I can’t do that, no matter what…_ __

His voice was soft, hesitant as he ventured a wary warning. “I… I don’t want to talk about…”

“I know,” Kris gently cut him off, holding up his hands in surrender. “And I promise I won’t ask about it, Adam. I won’t. I mean – you can talk to me about _anything_ you want to, but… but I won’t ask.” He paused, his voice softening as he edged yet nearer to Adam and continued in a hushed, enticing tone. “Come on, Adam. It’ll be like old times. Please?”

Finally, before he could think himself out of it again, Adam nodded, relenting. “Okay. But…” He paused, looking up at Kris with a hesitant frown. “… can we… can we stay at _your_ place, instead?”


	19. Chapter 19

Now that he had Adam alone, if silent and sullen in the passenger seat of his car – Kris wasn’t sure what to do next. After seeing how strongly Adam had fought to defend Jordan, how difficult it had been to get Adam to even speak two words to him, Kris was mentally congratulating himself on getting _this_ far – but he knew it wasn’t anywhere close to far enough.

 _I have to get him to talk to me._ Kris stared out the windshield, surrendering to the silence Adam seemed to want as he navigated the LA streets, crowded even at this late hour, toward the privacy of his own home just outside the city. _I have two days – what’s left of tonight, and two more days – until Jordan will post bond and be out of jail. Somehow, before that happens, I have to get Adam to tell me the truth about what’s going on – and I have to convince him not to go back to that asshole and let him do it again._ __

He ventured a subtle glance in Adam’s direction, trying to observe him without being observed. Adam seemed completely unaware of him, staring out the side window with wide, anxious eyes, his elbow braced against the car door as he nervously chewed at the nail of his thumb.

 _Adam never bit his nails before._ Kris frowned, somehow bothered by this new, not-all-that-significant development. _He picked at them sometimes, but never bit them. New nervous habit?_

 _New reasons to be nervous? Or, forget_ nervous – _he’s downright_ terrified.

Kris’s frown deepened as Adam shifted in his seat, closing his eyes as he wearily rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window. The movement caused the neck of the black t-shirt he wore to stretch slightly, revealing the deep purple bruising just beginning to be visible there. Kris could clearly make out the narrow shape of the fingers that had made them, and he looked away, trying to fight down the protective fury that rose up within him at the sight.

 _At least that creep won’t be able to get near him for the next few days – and I have a feeling that’s a few days Adam didn’t have before tonight. If I can just get him to talk to me…_

He kept his eyes on the road and kept his silence, wordlessly praying that he’d somehow manage to get through to Adam before it was too late.

*******************************************

 _What are you doing? Why are you going with him? Stupid, Jordan’s going to kill you when he finds out, and he_ will _find out. There were only about a couple dozen paparazzi snapping pictures when the two of you left together. God, Adam, you’re so stupid… so stupid, and so_ dead, _he’s never going to let this one go…_ __

Adam felt like he was going to be sick. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the window, trying to shut out the clamor of building panic in his mind, trying to focus on the soothing coolness against his overheated skin, and distract himself from his impending nausea.

He wasn’t really sure why he’d made the reckless, split-second decision to go with Kris, though he was really wondering now, certain that he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. Kris had just offered – so concerned and caring, with that warmth and welcome in his eyes that had been there from the start – and after so many long months spent in fear and degradation, Adam was irresistibly drawn to that kindness and concern, like a moth to a flame.

 _Except that your metaphor sucks, because the ‘flame’ is supposed to be something dangerous but irresistible, and Kris is anything but dangerous. I’m pretty sure the ‘flame’ is the guy who just nearly choked you to death. You’re drawn to Kris because he feels peaceful and gentle…_ safe…

 _But… you won’t be feeling so safe when Jordan finds out._

Panic edged into the cracks between Adam’s sleepy, rambling thoughts, and he sat up straight, his heart racing as he imagined how Jordan would react. This was crazy, foolish, dangerous beyond belief.

 _Why are you so_ stupid? _Why’d you agree to do this? This is going to get you killed._

 _You have to tell him to take you home._

 _****************************************_

“Kris, um… listen…”

Kris’s heart sank even before Adam continued. His tone made it obvious what he was about to say.

“… I don’t think this is such a good idea, after all. I think you should just… just take me home. Please.” Adam added the last word as an afterthought, his voice soft and barely trembling, keeping his gaze averted the entire time.

“It’s really no problem, Adam,” Kris insisted, trying to keep his tone casual. He knew if he made too much of this, made it sound that he was _too_ eager for Adam to come home with him, he’d only succeed in scaring Adam away. “I’ve got the whole house to myself.” He shrugged, with an effort managing to keep his eyes focused on the windshield. “I guess you heard about the divorce.”

Adam swallowed hard, his voice quiet and strangely guarded. “Yeah. Just… recently. But yeah.”

“It’s a big house,” Kris remarked with a little shrug, a little smile on his lips that he hoped would help to put Adam at ease. “Gets lonely. Really wouldn’t mind some company for a change.”

Adam was quiet for a moment, and Kris could tell that he was considering the offer again. When Adam broke the silence, there was regret and longing in his voice. “No, I… I really better go home.”

“Adam…”

“You said you’re still my friend. Right?” Adam’s voice hardened, and Kris’s eyes widened as he ventured a glance to see that Adam’s jaw was set in stubborn determination, his eyes narrowed and glaring through the windshield.

“Yeah. Of course…”

“Then please don’t keep pushing me to do something I’m obviously uncomfortable with.” Adam paused, concluding in a softer tone, calm but with a note of desperation. “Please take me home.”

Kris was quiet for a moment, trying to think of a valid argument – and coming up empty. When Adam put it like that, there was little he could say to dispute it. He was frustrated, knowing that if he took Adam home, he would be losing a valuable portion of what little time he would have to convince Adam to tell the truth.

 _But if you force the issue and try to_ make _him go with you – then you’re no better than the creep who’s been hurting him…_

“Okay,” Kris relented at last with a soft, sad sigh. “Whatever you want, Adam.”

************************************

Adam closed his eyes, letting out a slow, deep breath in relief as he rested his head against the seat behind him. He knew he couldn’t actually get into his house when they got there, but he could hardly tell Kris that. And anyway, it didn’t matter. He could have Kris drop him off at his house, then wait until he’d left to call a taxi and go to a hotel room.

There was a cold, empty sadness settling in the pit of his stomach to replace the brief, hopeful warmth he’d felt at the prospect of spending a safe, comfortable night in Kris’s company – but Adam knew that it could not be helped. That one night of nostalgic peace and comfort would not be worth the brutal consequences that would follow when Jordan came home and found out about it – and Adam had no doubt that he _would_ find out about it.

As Kris slowed his car at the gate outside Adam’s property, Adam’s stomach lurched at the suspicious frown on the guard’s face at the sight of the unfamiliar car. Adam smiled as he leaned across Kris to tell the man that it was okay, Jordan was going away for a few days, and he’d just caught a ride home with a friend – but inside, he was quaking, certain that this man would tell Jordan about Kris driving him home.

 _He’s going to kill me… he’s going to be so furious… but… but not as bad as if I went to Kris’s house…_

Kris slowed the car as he entered the circular drive in front of Adam’s house, bringing it to a stop directly in front of the door. Adam swallowed hard, avoiding Kris’s eyes as he opened the door.

“Thanks. I’ll… I’ll talk to you later…”

“You will?”

Adam froze, biting his lower lip and wincing slightly at the dubious note in Kris’s mild voice. Finally, he chose to ignore the comment, offering a quiet “Good night,” as he got out of the car and closed the door behind him. He didn’t look back, deliberately slowing his steps as he approached the door, in order to allow Kris plenty of time to leave before he could notice that Adam wasn’t going to actually _open_ the door.

The sound of Kris’s tires on the driveway was a relief to Adam as he made his leisurely way up the steps to the door. He kept up the act until he reached the front door, reaching into his pocket as if to take out a key, glancing casually over his shoulder – to see that Kris had slowed the car to an infinitesimal crawl, and was peering across the seat, still watching Adam closely.

Adam turned and gave him an impatient, irritated wave, rolling his eyes dramatically, hoping to embarrass Kris into going on his way – but he knew Kris well enough to know, even as he did it, that it would not work. Kris just returned his wave with a wide smile, and stopped the car completely.

Adam turned his back on him, reaching into his jacket pockets this time, trying to keep up the act of looking for his keys; but his hands were trembling, his face flushed with the self-conscious panic of knowing that Kris was watching, that his humiliating secret was on the brink of being found out. He flinched slightly but did not turn, did not stop digging through his pockets, at the sound of Kris’s car door opening and closing, and worn sneakers crunching over the fine gravel to make their way toward him.

Adam could feel panic closing in again as Kris closed the distance between them, and he gave up the search and went still, eyes downcast and miserable as Kris stopped beside him. Kris was silent, glancing down at Adam’s hands in his pockets before looking up to meet his eyes with a gentle, questioning gaze.

“Everything okay?”

Adam felt himself coming apart inside at the warmth and concern in Kris’s voice, and leaned forward toward the locked door, resting his head and his hand against it and closing his eyes in defeat. His throat constricted, his eyes stinging with tears, as he ground out soft, frustrated words through clenched teeth.

“Why can’t you just _go_?”

If any part of him expected the harsh words to drive Kris away when nothing else had managed to do so yet – he was wrong.

Kris shrugged slightly, his tone mildly self-deprecating as he answered without hesitation. “You oughta know by now, I’m a southern gentleman.” There was affectionate teasing in his soft words as he continued, “Can’t bring you home and not stay until I know you’re safe inside.”

 _Safe… inside…_

Adam let out a bitter, slightly manic laugh at the irony of that concept, shaking his head back and forth without lifting it from where it rested against the door. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt _safe inside_ his own home. It had become nothing more than a prison filled with terror and torment, from which there was no escape. A tiny voice in the back of his mind that, for the moment, sounded just like Kris’s voice, whispered a question for which he had no answer.

 _So… why are you trying so hard to get back in?_ __

*************************************

Adam’s mirthless laughter abruptly turned to tears, and he backed away from the door, his head lowered, his face falling forward into his hands. Quiet tears shifted without warning to deep, silent sobs that shook through Adam’s entire body. Finally, it seemed that the fear and pain and confusion and the endless effort to conceal it all had overwhelmed him, welling to the surface and taking him over against his will.

Adam seemed to be on the verge of a total collapse.

Kris was stunned, alarmed – and a little bit relieved – at the sight. Instinctively he moved forward, wrapping a cautious arm around Adam’s shaking shoulders and gently turning Adam to face him.

“Hey,” he murmured, using the same soft, tender tone he had used whenever Katy had cried. “Hey, come on… you’re okay… you’re okay, Adam, come here…”

When Kris gently tugged Adam forward into his arms, Adam did not resist, crying softly against Kris’s shoulder. Kris instinctively raised a hand to run through his hair, murmuring soft shushing sounds in his ear.

“It’s okay, Adam,” he whispered. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

After a moment Kris drew back a little, glancing self-consciously around them, though no one appeared to be within sight. He looked back up at Adam with an anxious, questioning frown.

“Do you wanna go inside? It’s more private…”

The simple question seemed strangely upsetting to Adam, just making him cry harder. “I c-can’t,” he gasped out, shaking his head in despair. “I can’t…”

“Okay, we won’t,” Kris quickly agreed, his voice hushed and soothing. “It’s okay.” He hesitated, unwilling to push Adam, but unable to think of a better plan under the circumstances. If Adam didn’t want to go into his house for some reason, their other options were severely limited. “Let’s just… well… Adam… just let me take you to my place… okay? Please?”

Adam hesitated a moment, sniffling and rubbing a hand across his eyes. He was still shaking, his emotions far from under control, but he seemed a little calmer as he considered the offer. Finally, he nodded, accepting.

“O-okay. Okay.”

Despite Adam’s obvious suffering, Kris couldn’t help the relieved smile that formed on his face. He pulled Adam into a gentle hug, holding him close for a moment before pulling back to put his arm supportively around Adam’s shoulders and lead him down the steps to his waiting car.

“It’s okay, Adam,” Kris whispered as he opened the passenger side door and gently steered him inside. “Everything’s going to be all right.”


	20. Chapter 20

When Kris got into the driver’s seat of his car, Adam was still crying softly, one hand raised in embarrassment to cover his face. Kris bit his lip, frowning slightly with hesitation. He was relieved that Adam had allowed him to hug him, to comfort him in any way at all, after the distance with which he’d treated Kris before. Still, he wasn’t sure how much was too far – how much Adam was ready to accept from him, in such a vulnerable state.

 _You were best friends once. Come on, Kris. Don’t be an idiot. It’s just Adam._

Kris reached out a cautious hand to rest on Adam’s leg, squeezing gently – alarmed and dismayed when Adam flinched away. Adam’s eyes were wide and startled when he looked up at Kris, then looked away self-consciously, swallowing hard.

“I’m sorry,” Kris said softly. “Sorry, Adam. I didn’t mean to…”

Adam shook his head rapidly, his eyes fastened on his lap, his breath shallow and ragged. “No, I… _I’m_ sorry, you… you didn’t…” His words broke off abruptly, and he wrapped his arms tightly around his chest as a tremor passed through him. He looked away, closing his eyes. “I-I’m sorry…”

“Hey.” Kris’s voice was soft, reassuring, as he cautiously reached out to Adam again, this time making sure that Adam had opened his eyes and saw him coming before he actually touched him. “Come here. Come on, Adam, it’s all right…” He wrapped one arm gently around Adam’s shoulders, tugging him slightly closer. “Come here… just relax, okay? You’re safe now…”

Despite the fact that he was _trying_ to get Adam to accept comfort from him, Kris was still stunned when Adam turned toward him, leaning his head against Kris’s shoulder. Kris raised his hand to run soothingly through Adam’s hair, tilting his head to rest against the top of Adam’s as he whispered reassuring words under his breath.

“That’s it… that’s fine, Adam, you’re okay… you’re gonna be just fine…”

As they drove toward Kris’s house, he was gratified to feel Adam slowly begin to relax against him, though he was still trembling slightly and still drawing in soft, sobbing gasps of air. Almost without realizing he was doing it, Kris began to hum softly under his breath – something soft and slow and soothing. It was an old song he’d learned as a little boy in church, and he knew Adam was unlikely to recognize it, but the simple, sweet melody still seemed to be comforting to him. Gradually, his trembling ceased, and Kris felt him go still and slack against his side.

When they arrived at Kris’s house, he was surprised to find that, exhausted by the traumatic events of the evening, Adam had fallen asleep. He almost felt guilty for waking him, though he knew that he had no choice.

“Adam,” he murmured, gently nudging him with his shoulder. “Adam, wake up. We’re here.”

Adam startled awake, looking up at Kris through wide, fearful eyes.

“It’s okay.” Kris gave him a warm, reassuring smile. “We’re home. At my house. Let’s go in.”

Adam blinked at him in sleepy confusion for a moment before Kris’s words seemed to finally register, and he nodded, turning and fumbling for the door handle. Kris led Adam up the walk to his front door, unlocking it and then stepping aside to allow Adam to enter first. Gradually waking up, Adam hesitated a moment, a look of uncertainty crossing his face as he glanced at Kris before reluctantly crossing the threshold into the house.

It wasn’t hard to tell that Adam’s doubts were starting to return.

 _The sooner I can get him comfortable and resting, the better. It’d suck to get this far, just to have him change his mind and leave now…_

“I’m gonna find you something to sleep in, Adam,” he explained, guiding his unusually passive friend to the sofa. “I’ll be right back.”

Adam slowly sat down on the sofa, nodding but not meeting Kris’s eyes. Kris waited until he leaned back, resting his head against the back of the sofa and closing his eyes, to head toward his bedroom upstairs. Adam seemed utterly exhausted, lacking the strength, if not the will, to leave on his own. Still, Kris hurriedly dug through his dresser drawers in search of anything that might come remotely close to fitting Adam, eager to get back to him before he had the time to rethink his decision to stay with Kris for the night.

Kris found the baggiest pair of sweatpants he owned and an oversized t-shirt. He knew they would still be too snug and too short on Adam, but it was the best he had to offer – and somehow, he didn’t think Adam would care that much what he was wearing.

 _I just have to get back to him before he changes his mind… just have to keep him_ here… _and safe…_

Kris needn’t have worried.

He let out a soft sigh of relief when he returned to the living room to find that Adam had drifted back to sleep on the couch. He was lying on his side, his head resting against the arm of the sofa, his long legs folded to fit the sofa that was a little too short for him to comfortably stretch out. Kris’s expression softened with a combination of sadness and affection as he drew nearer to his friend, noting how vulnerable he appeared, his brow creased in a troubled expression even in sleep.

Kris knelt beside the sofa, setting the clothes down on the coffee table and reaching out a cautious hand to brush Adam’s disheveled hair back from his eyes. Adam did not stir, though a shiver passed through him at the light brush of contact. Kris allowed his gaze to drift downward, frowning when he noticed for the first time the thick bandage around Adam’s left hand.

 _Must be why the doctor came to the venue,_ he realized. _What did that monster do to him?_

The bruises on Adam’s neck stood out in livid detail in the brighter lights of Kris’s living room, the shape of Jordan’s fingers clearly visible. Kris winced when he saw the dried blood at the corner of Adam’s mouth, next to a deep purple bruise, and imagined the blow that must have caused it. His fingers brushed lightly across the bruised skin, as he tried to suppress the smoldering fury that rose up in him at the sight.

 _I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him before I’ll let him_ touch _Adam again…_

Adam stirred slightly under the touch of Kris’s hand – then jerked awake with a gasp, frightened.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Kris gently gripped his shoulder, steadying him as he met his startled gaze. “It’s okay. You just dozed off.” He leaned back on his knees, giving Adam a little space, and nodded toward the folded clothes on the coffee table. “You wanna change out of your show clothes? All that spiky leather stuff can’t be comfortable to sleep in.” He gave Adam a teasing grin, hoping to put him more at ease.

Adam just stared at him blankly, his eyes shifting to the clothes, then back up to Kris’s face.

“Go ahead,” Kris softly urged him with another nod. “Get changed. I’ll be right back.”

He went to the bathroom and found a tube of ointment and some gauze, then ran a washcloth under warm water and wrung it out. He knew that what little he could do for Adam’s physical injuries was not much, but he just had to _do_ something, _anything_ , to try to undo the damage that Jordan had done.

 _But it’s more than a couple bruises and a little blood._ Kris’s heart ached with the undeniable realization. _He’s… he’s damaged._ Broken _. Jordan has hurt him worse than you’ve seen yet… and you might not be able to make this right._

Kris paused for a moment just inside the bathroom door, his arms full of the supplies he’d gathered. He leaned his head against the door, drawing in a slow, shaky breath in an attempt to steady himself.

 _You can’t fall apart now. You have to take care of Adam. Just keep it together for a little while longer…_

Kris returned to the living room with a bright smile, no trace of his inner panic on his face – to find Adam sitting on the edge of the sofa, still fully clothed in his outfit from the concert, the t-shirt and sweatpants clutched in his trembling good hand. His eyes were downcast, his face frozen in an expression of shame and despair.

“What’s the matter?” Kris asked, sitting down beside him and nudging him lightly with his shoulder. “Why aren’t you changed?”

Adam swallowed hard, not raising his head. He spoke, but the words were barely over a breath, and Kris couldn’t quite make them out.

“What?”

Adam closed his eyes, grinding out the words in a voice filled with quiet defeat. “I can’t.”

Kris frowned, confused – until Adam raised his bandaged hand in silent explanation.

Kris thought his heart would break for his strong, proud, fiercely independent friend, reduced to a state where he wasn’t even able to undress himself on his own. He knew that the clothes Adam wore for his concerts were complicated and tight enough to be difficult to get out of under the best of circumstances.

 _Of course he can’t get out of them one-handed. Should have thought of that._

Kris shrugged, keeping his tone light and easy as he replied. “Well, that’s no big. Let me help you.” He reached for the sleeve of Adam’s jacket, tugging lightly.

Adam jerked away, turning to face Kris in a defensive posture, eyes wide with fright. “ _No_!”

Kris was quiet for a moment, calmly holding Adam’s gaze. “Adam,” he began cautiously. “I won’t ask. I already promised you – I won’t say a word. All right? Just… please.” He paused, unable to keep the deeper meaning from his tone as he finished softly, “Let me help you.”

Adam hesitated, and the confusion and fear in his eyes broke Kris’s heart. Finally, he relented, his shoulders falling with resignation. He had no other choice, really. He couldn’t stay in his stage clothes forever. Under normal circumstances, Jordan would have helped him undress, Kris realized – which was awfully convenient for Jordan.

 _No one to see the damage he’s done except him – no one to notice that Adam needs help…_

It was all Kris could do to force himself to keep his promise as he carefully stripped off the damp layers of leather and fabric that covered Adam’s body – revealing more damage than he had allowed himself to imagine. Bruises layered his pale, freckled frame – far thinner than Kris remembered from the days in the Idol mansion, when Adam seemed to have no shame when it came to walking around in all states of dress and undress. It hurt Kris’s heart to remember the easy confidence with which Adam had moved back then – with no trace of self-consciousness whatsoever.

Now, Adam kept his head bowed the entire time, his eyes glued to the floor, unable to bring himself to meet Kris’s eyes. His face was flushed with shame, his mouth quivering slightly as he fought to hold back the humiliated tears that rose to his eyes. Kris kept his promise and kept silent, even as he noted with quiet rage the vicious marks that scored his skin, and could not prevent his mind from visualizing the events that might have put them there.

He saw finger-shaped bruises on Adam’s upper arms, and pictured Jordan shaking Adam roughly and shoving him into a wall. He discovered deep, dark bruises on Adam’s ribcage, so deep that he could imagine nothing that could have formed them besides a brutal kick with a hard-toed shoe. There were similar marks on Adam’s thighs, and Kris knew that Adam couldn’t have been standing when those blows were delivered.

The thought of his friend, battered to the floor, pleading and terrified as he was brutally kicked and beaten by someone who was supposed to love him – it was almost more than Kris could bear. But he _made_ himself bear it, staying calm and composed for Adam’s sake as he gently, carefully helped him into the soft, comfortable clothes he’d brought him.

As he pulled the t-shirt over Adam’s head and Adam lowered his arms back down to his sides, their eyes met for just an instant before Adam averted his gaze. Kris ached inside at the vulnerable question he read in Adam’s gaze. Adam swallowed hard, his lips parted to speak, though he couldn’t seem to find the words at first.

“Kris… I… it’s not… I…”

“Adam.” Kris’s voice was firm, but understanding, drawing Adam’s stammered attempt at explanation to a halt. “You don’t have to lie to me…”

Adam looked up sharply, shaking his head in objection, but Kris went on before he could speak.

“… because you don’t have to explain. Okay? I meant it. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me.”

Adam stared at him for a long time, searching, a trace of suspicion in his eyes – before visibly relaxing with a soft sigh of relief. He nodded once, closing his eyes and lowering his head, his voice barely over a whisper.

“Th-thank you.”

“You’re beat, man,” Kris observed softly, for Adam’s comfort, not acknowledging the grateful words. “No wonder. It’s already past two. Come on, let’s get you to bed. I’ll show you the guest room.”

Adam followed obediently as Kris led the way, pulling back the blankets and helping to get him settled. When he was satisfied that Adam would be comfortable for the night, Kris ventured to tentatively grasp Adam’s good hand, squeezing gently. Adam looked up to meet his eyes, a wary question there.

“Good night,” Kris said softly, turning to go.

Adam did not let go of his hand.

Kris turned to face him, a puzzled frown on his face. “Adam…?”

“Can you… can you not… not go? Just yet?” Adam wouldn’t look at him, and Kris could sense his terror, knew that he was probably equally afraid that Kris would refuse him – and that Kris would grant his request. “I just… I don’t wanna be…”

Kris didn’t need Adam to finish the statement to know what he needed. Without a word, he lay down on the bed beside Adam, positioning the pillows on his side of the bed so that he was partially sitting up, then drawing Adam’s head down onto his chest. Adam settled in close to him, eyes closed, already beginning to fall back to sleep. Kris was sure that had Adam not been so thoroughly exhausted, he likely would not have allowed himself to ask Kris to stay.

For his part, Kris was simply grateful that he _had_ asked.

He lay there in silence, cradling Adam’s head against his chest, running his fingers through his hair and soothing him to sleep. Eventually, Kris drifted off as well, his mind filled with one promise circling through his thoughts again and again.

 _No matter what it takes… there is no way I’ll ever let that monster touch him again…_


	21. Chapter 21

As his sleepy brain wandered back toward consciousness, Kris was vaguely aware that something was not quite right – something he should be aware of – though he couldn’t quite remember what it was. He shifted in the bed, stirring, and then froze as he remembered that he wasn’t alone in his bed. He didn’t want to disturb Katy…

 _Wait… not Katy…_

 _Adam._

Kris’s eyes shot open, and he found himself suddenly wide awake. The events of the night before came rushing back to him, and he looked to his side, his stomach lurching uneasily when he saw that he _was_ in fact the only one in his bed.

 _No… no, he can’t have left… please, no…_

Kris jumped out of bed and rushed down the stairs, through the kitchen and into the hallway – stopping short at the sight of Adam, still in the clothes he’d slept in, leaning against the wall in the foyer and staring through the glass at the driveway just outside Kris’s house. Adam jumped slightly as Kris entered, standing up straight and casting a brief, guilty glance in his direction before self-consciously looking away.

Kris tried to keep his tone light and teasing. “You’re not going out looking like _that_ , are you? People will think someone washed your clothes in hot water then put them back on you in your sleep.”

Adam gave him a half-hearted smirk of amusement that never touched his eyes, shrugging slightly. “I’ve realized I can pretty much wear whatever I want,” he pointed out. “If I look stupid, people just think I’m being ironic.”

“We can wash those, you know.” Kris nodded toward the wadded up pile of clothes clutched in Adam’s good arm. “The t-shirt and jeans, anyway. So you know – if you’re gonna go – you could go _not_ looking like you beat up a midget and stole his clothes.”

Adam shrugged again, looking away, barely cracking a smile this time. “The cab’s already on its way,” he admitted softly. “I’ll change at home. It’s no big deal.”

“I could drive you,” Kris offered, grasping at straws, desperate to keep Adam with him just a little longer. “Save you cab fare – not to mention, anyone besides me seeing you like this.”

He realized that he had exhausted the potential of that particular ice-breaking joke when Adam simply looked at the floor, his expression solemn and guarded. “Look, Kris,” he said softly, biting his lower lip hesitantly. “I… I appreciate what you’re trying to… what you did… last night. Thanks for… for letting me stay here, and… and everything, but… I really need to go.” He looked up and out the window again, adding words that were barely a breath, and Kris was fairly certain only intended for Adam’s own ears. “It’s bad enough already.”

Kris was quiet for a moment, his heart weighted by the simple but telling words. He wanted to scream in frustration, but knew that would do nothing but frighten Adam away faster. His mind raced with a desperate plea that he knew better than to voice, as he tried to find the words to get through to his friend before it was too late.

 _Please, Adam, don’t do this. Don’t go back to him… please stay with me…_

*******************************

 _Please, Kris, just don’t. Just leave it alone and let me go. He’s gonna kill me as it is…_

“You know, when I was a kid, and I’d stay out past curfew…”

Adam was distracted from his panicked thoughts by Kris’s unexpected words, and gave his friend a doubtful look, a single brow raised in his direction, when he processed exactly what Kris had said. Kris shot a good-natured glare back in his direction, his tone teasingly defensive.

“What? Shut up, it happened.”

Adam smiled a little in spite of himself, staring down at his shoes with his good hand stuffed into his pocket, wondering distractedly where Kris was heading with his random story.

“Well, anyway… I knew I was already in trouble. Knew I’d be grounded for a week when I got home, and not going _anywhere_ for a good long time. So… since I was already out, and therefore already _dead_ …” Kris shrugged. “I’d just make the most of it, and make sure I had as much fun as humanly possible while I could – make it worth it, you know? Since I was gonna get punished anyway…”

Adam slowly registered exactly what Kris was getting at, as Kris cautiously pushed away from the wall on which he was leaning and took a couple of slow, careful steps closer to Adam, waiting until he met his eyes to go on. His gaze was earnest and arresting, his voice gentle and quietly pleading.

“A couple dozen paparazzi saw us leave together. The guards at your house saw us together there.”

Adam’s stomach lurched, and he felt sick at the realization that Kris was right. He’d already crossed a very dangerous line by leaving the venue with Kris at all – let alone allowing Kris to drive him to his house, and then away from it again.

 _It’s too late to fix this…_

“I can’t keep you from going back to him,” Kris acknowledged softly, and Adam found that he could not look away from the frank honesty in Kris’s dark eyes. “I know that’s what you’re gonna do, and… and I know that after that, I’ll probably never see you again if he has anything to say about it, but… not yet. That’s all I’m asking, Adam. Just not yet.”

It was more tempting than Adam wanted to admit.

 _Jordan’s going to kill me when he gets home. The guards will tell him everything, and he’ll kill me for going with Kris. After this weekend… I’m never going anywhere again, Jordan will make sure of that. So… for now… just for a couple of days…_

“If these next couple of days is the last chance we’re gonna get to hang out – can’t you give me that much?” Kris’s voice was soft, quietly pleading. “Come on, Adam. Let’s make it worth it.”

Adam wasn’t sure any amount of fun and friendship could be worth what he was certain Jordan would do to him after this weekend – but the idea of two full days of nothing more than easy, comfortable companionship and relaxation without the constant threat of pain if he should make a single misstep, well – it was more than he could resist.

Kris reached out to carefully take Adam’s wrinkled stage clothes, and Adam let him, following quietly after him as Kris led the way to the laundry room and put the jeans and t-shirt into the washing machine. While the clothes washed and dried, Kris made them a breakfast of eggs, sausage and biscuits, which Adam ate with no concern for the figure he’d been so desperately trying to maintain.

 _Won’t matter anymore if I’m dead. Might as well enjoy it…_

While they waited for Adam’s clothes to dry, Kris told Adam what had happened between him and Katy. Adam listened with keen interest, stunned to hear of how what had seemed to be such a fairy tale romance had slowly fallen apart.

“The truth is,” Kris admitted with a guilty grimace, meeting Adam’s eyes with regret. “I fell in love with someone else. I never… never acted on it, or… or told her I wanted a divorce, or anything like that.” A sad, wistful smile passed his lips as he shook his head slowly, remembering. “No, she saw it before I did. _She’s_ the one who told _me_ when it was time to quit trying.”

They both fell silent for a few moments, Adam considering what Kris had said, trying to reconcile it with the image he’d had of Kris and Katy’s relationship. A long time ago, he realized, he might have felt a vindictive sense of satisfaction in the fact that the marriage Kris had clung to so stoically had eventually fallen apart. Instead, all he felt was a sense of sympathy for the obvious hurt his friend was going through.

Whether or not he’d been in love with Katy in the end, Adam knew that Kris had loved her deeply, and had to be lonely and grieving in her absence – especially since whomever he’d fallen in love with that had taken him away from Katy, that person no longer appeared to be in his life. Kris hadn’t mentioned her name, and there were no signs around the house that anyone besides Kris was staying there. Adam was curious, but not so curious as to bring up a second open wound, not when Kris had just been so open and transparent about the first.

“So… you want me to take you by your house to get some things?” Kris offered, changing the subject. “In case you don’t wanna be seen in the same thing two days in a row?” He smirked. “We know they’re clean and all, but the paps don’t know that.”

Adam looked away, feeling his face flush with shame as he shrugged and tried to keep his tone convincingly casual. “No, uh… that’s fine. I… I can’t get in, anyway,” he admitted. “I… forgot the security code.”

Kris raised a dubious brow, and Adam could imagine the questions that must have filled his mind – but Kris didn’t voice any of them. “That’s cool,” he replied. “Whatever. You want to go shopping, then? Buy something new to wear?”

Adam’s expression brightened automatically at the prospect.

There was nothing that distracted him from his troubles more quickly than shopping.

Adam’s troubles seemed to fade away into the background – an ever-present shadow that grew dimmer with each passing, pleasant hour. Kris did not bring up the bruises he’d seen the night before, or Adam’s emotional breakdown, or anything even remotely related to Jordan. He just filled Adam in on the events of his life over the past year and a half, as well as things Adam hadn’t heard about their mutual friends.

The two of them easily slid back into the easy familiarity their friendship had always had – before Adam had ruined it by pushing for more, when he knew Kris was committed to someone else.

Now, however, with Katy nothing more than a fading memory, Adam couldn’t help but wonder what could have been, had things been just a little bit different. A wistful longing came over him as he found himself wishing that he hadn’t met Jordan way back then – hadn’t allowed himself to take comfort in the mysterious, attentive young man who’d seemed to be exactly what he needed at the time.

 _If I was still single now… maybe me and Kris… but… but no…_

Adam forced himself to put that thought out of his mind.

 _He never wanted you. He’s not even gay. All he ever wanted was friendship -- and if you push it, you won’t even have that._

 _You won’t even have that anyway, after tomorrow._

It was Kris’s idea to rent a movie and settle down for the rest of the evening at home. Adam readily agreed, pleasantly worn out from the full day of shopping, and ready to simply relax with some mindless entertainment for the rest of the night.

The movie had been on for about ten minutes when Kris casually rested his arm across the back of the sofa, a welcome, comfortable pressure across Adam’s shoulders. As he began to get more comfortable, and a little sleepy, Adam found himself settling in against Kris’s side. Kris welcomed the affectionate closeness, wrapping his arm more deliberately around Adam’s shoulders and squeezing gently. Adam’s heart was filled with a deep, warm ache, and he couldn’t decide whether it was agony or overwhelming joy that he felt at the easy comfort of Kris’s gentle strength surrounding him.

When Kris raised a hand to idly play through his hair, Adam closed his eyes and focused on the sensation, the movie long forgotten. Kris’s hand gradually drifted downward, stroking gently at Adam’s neck and shoulders, moving slowly down his back in a light, casual massage that was not intended as anything more than friendly affection, Adam was sure – but it felt so good, it didn’t matter.

Adam couldn’t remember the last time a touch so intimate had made him feel so _safe_.

Then, Kris’s soft, firm hand brushed across a painfully bruised spot on his back – where Jordan  had slammed him into a door jamb a couple of days earlier, Adam remembered – and Adam flinched at the unintentional pain, drawing in a sharp gasp as a shiver passed through him. Kris froze, instantly withdrawing his hand.

“Adam, I’m sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s okay,” Adam insisted, lowering his face against Kris’s shoulder in a gesture that was half attempt to reassure Kris, and half attempt to hide his own shame at the reminder of the abuse he’d brought upon himself. “It’s okay, Kris. I’m fine. I’m okay.”

They both fell silent, and Kris slowly returned his arm to wrap around Adam’s shoulders, though not moving this time. Adam felt the reassuring pressure on the top of his head as Kris tilted his head to rest his cheek upon it, and tried to relax – but he couldn’t. He was trembling, his mind going back unwillingly to the incident that had caused the bruising on his back – and forward, to the incident he knew was yet to come, when Jordan came home.

“Adam.” Kris’s voice was hushed, softly pleading, filled with a love and compassion that brought a lump to Adam’s throat and hot, prickling tears to the backs of his eyes. “Please. You don’t have to… I mean… just… just don’t go back. Okay? _Please_.”

Adam was quiet, his heart aching, yearning to simply tell Kris everything so that he could understand – and yet restrained by the ever-present fear Jordan had instilled in him, the knowledge of the terrible things that could happen, to him and to others, if he dared to open his mouth about the things he endured at Jordan’s hand.

 _But… Kris already knows. Why bother to lie, when he already knows?_

“I have to,” Adam whispered at last. “I… it’d be so much worse if I… if I tried to leave…”

Kris sat up a little, turning slightly toward Adam in an attempt to get him to raise his head and look at him. “But, Adam…”

Adam clung to Kris, refusing to raise his face from where it was buried in Kris’s sleeve. “No…” He let out a pleading groan, shaking his head against Kris’s shoulder, his trembling hands clinging to Kris’s shirt. “Kris… please, don’t. Can’t you just… just let me have this night, the way it’s been… okay? Just let me… enjoy this night, and not think about it?” His voice was hoarse with unshed tears, and trembling with desperation. “Please, can we… can we not talk about what happens after this weekend?”

Kris was silent for a long time, and Adam was sure that he’d ruined everything. The mood was shattered, and Kris was angry now, and he never should have come there in the first place…

Then, to his amazement, Adam felt the light brush of Kris’s lips against his brow, and his breath caught in his throat at the tender intimacy of the gesture.

“Whatever you want, Adam,” Kris whispered, gently squeezing him tighter for a moment before easing his arm around him and settling in close. “That’s fine. Whatever you want.”

The movie played on, unheeded, each of them lost in their own troubled thoughts. Adam gradually began to relax again, managing to put his fearful thoughts out of his mind and simply focus on the sweet, soothing sensation of Kris’s arm around him, as Kris just quietly held him close in soft, companionable silence.


	22. Chapter 22

When Adam finally awakened Sunday morning, it was to find that it was barely still morning at all.

He blinked sleepily at the clock until the red lighted numbers came into focus – then stared in disbelief when he saw that it was after eleven. He vaguely remembered being led from the sofa at some point the night before. It had been nearly one, but he’d already been sleeping on the sofa for some time at that point; he’d slept more than ten hours since then.

He felt a vague sensation of guilt at how long he’d slept, and the fact that Kris had likely been waiting for him downstairs for some time. Vicious self-accusations – manifesting themselves in the sound of Jordan’s voice – echoed through his thoughts.

 _Fat, lazy bitch. You’re a_ guest _here. How rude could you possibly be? Stupid, selfish little whore… shouldn’t even be here… should be at home, where you belong…_

Adam tried to shut out the dark, troubling thoughts, focusing instead on the comforting image of Kris, sitting downstairs in the living room, waiting impatiently for Adam to come down so they could spend some time together – the _last_ of their time together. Of course, Kris was too considerate and thoughtful to wake him, despite the fact that this was their last day…

Adam’s stomach lurched, and he lay down again, closing his eyes, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep again and shut out the reality of Monday morning that was swiftly closing in on him. Despite the lengthy hours he’d slept, he felt overwhelmingly weary again at the thought. He hadn’t realized how exhausting the effort of simply keeping Jordan happy had become until he was able to spend a few days away from it.

It felt so good to just be able to rest in peace and safety, knowing that at least for the next few hours, he was not going to be berated or beaten or punished for anything he had done. It was a blessed relief to know that no one was going to hurt him here – that he could sleep as long as he wanted, say whatever he wanted, spend time with his friend without worrying about Jordan’s constantly looking over his shoulder. The past two days had been the best he’d experienced in over a year.

 _It’s too bad it all has to come crashing down tomorrow…_

Adam could feel the edges of panic creeping in around the peaceful contentment he felt, his heartbeat quickening as his brow broke out in a cold sweat. He closed his eyes, fighting back the overwhelming nausea that arose at the thought of what was going to happen the following morning when he went to the police station to pick up Jordan.

 _It’s got to be all over the tabloids – you leaving with Kris Friday night. You’re an idiot to think you could ever get away with it…_

With his next thought, however, Kris’s words seemed to drown out Jordan’s accusing, derisive tone in his mind.

 _But, if that’s true… then you’ve only got a few hours left. You don’t want to waste them…_

 _But… maybe… it could be_ more _than that…_

Adam rose from the bed and made his way toward the bathroom to brush his teeth and clean up a bit before going downstairs to find Kris. He tried not to look too closely at his own reflection in the mirror, avoiding the sight of the dark purple bruise that had formed under his eye, unobscured by his usual makeup and standing out in stark relief against his pale skin.

 _It’s nothing compared to what he’ll give you if you don’t show up to pick him up tomorrow…_

Adam set his jaw as he began to apply the makeup he’d purchased during their shopping trip the day before, steeling himself against the tendrils of hope slowly infiltrating the resignation in his heart. He couldn’t allow it – couldn’t allow himself to think that maybe there was a chance he might yet escape. He looked up at last to meet his own gaze in the mirror, making himself focus on the marks left by Jordan’s abuse – making himself think about what he had done to provoke the attack.

 _There_ is _no chance. If there ever was, you’re long past that now. Just… just go pick up Jordan tomorrow like you planned, and go home with him… and hope that he’s had time to cool down over the past couple of days._

 _It’s going to be bad enough as it is. Don’t do anything stupid to make it worse._

**********************************

Kris’s heart was heavy as he stared at the television screen, an untouched mug of coffee slowly growing cold in his hand. He had awakened already troubled, unable to think of anything besides the fact that today was his last day with Adam – his last chance to convince him to change his mind before he could go back to Jordan. Looking down at Adam’s sleeping form, peaceful and calm in rest, Kris had not been able to bring himself to wake him.

 _Who knows when’s the next time he’ll be able to feel safe? He’ll wake up when he’s ready to wake up._

Now, it was just past eleven, and Kris was distracted by a television show he rarely deigned to watch anymore. From the other side of the camera, it was far too obvious how much _TMZ_ and other shows like it exaggerated or assumed or simply made up in order to get more interesting celebrity stories. Kris knew enough to avoid such shows most days – but this morning, as the morning before, he had reason to watch.

He had been relieved Saturday morning to find no stories about himself and Adam on the celebrity gossip shows. However, it appeared the paparazzi and television producers simply needed the time to get their pieces together. Kris’s stomach dropped, a cold weight settling in his chest as he watched the images on his television screen of himself and Adam leaving the show venue together.

“A physician was called to the site of the concert, and then not an hour later, the police were called as well,” the faceless voice on the television informed him in a conspiratorial tone. “No sources have come forward to give us any idea of what actually went on inside, but when all was said and done, Adam Lambert left the show not with his long time joined-at-the-hip beau Jordan Brenner, but in the company of none other than last year’s American Idol winner Kris Allen.”

Kris didn’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed that the police had apparently honored Adam’s request that they take Jordan out the back way so as to avoid the paparazzi getting pictures of him in handcuffs. For Adam’s sake, to spare him the humiliation of the speculation that surely would have followed, Kris was relieved. Yet, he couldn’t help thinking that, had Jordan’s arrest become public knowledge, it might have been easier for Adam to face the idea of walking away from him.

 _This is bad, though._

Kris sighed, absently taking a sip of his coffee as he stared at Adam’s weary, unhappy expression in the video they kept replaying, wishing he could find a way to erase that fear and misery from his face for good.

 _He’s already skittish enough as it is. If he sees something like this… God, if_ Jordan _sees something like this…_

“No word yet as to whether or not Adam and Jordan’s relationship is on the rocks. No one’s managed to get an interview with Kris or Adam since Friday night, when the two of them disappeared together in Kris’s car. In fact, no one’s seen any sign of Adam or Kris in the last two days…”

Kris nodded slightly in satisfaction, grateful for his decision to drive a couple of hours away from LA for their shopping trip, rather than expose Adam to the scrutiny of the paparazzi sharks on the morning after the scandalous incident they were already so savagely devouring.

“… but one thing’s for sure…”

Kris’s stomach lurched at the next words the announcer spoke, cringing in dread of the inevitable fallout they’d create.

“… looks like the long-rumored romantic relationship between Adam Lambert and his former Idol roommate Kris Allen might just be a possibility after all.”

The sound of shattering glass from behind him drew Kris’s attention abruptly, and he turned around just in time to see Adam sinking to his knees in the kitchen doorway, his one good hand shaking as he fumbled to gather up the scattered pieces of a broken coffee mug. He didn’t seem to notice the dark liquid that soaked into the knees of the brand new pajama pants he’d purchased the day before as he hurried to collect the jagged pieces in the one hand he could use – a hand that was clutching those pieces a little too tightly, Kris noticed with alarm.

He rose quickly from the sofa and crossed the room to the doorway, crouching in front of Adam and gently taking his wrist. “Careful,” he softly warned him. “You’ll cut yourself…” He noticed with dismay that his warning was too late. A thin trickle of blood slipped down between Adam’s fingers as he heedlessly clutched the shattered shards.

“I-I’m sorry,” Adam stammered, eyes wide and locked onto the mess at his feet, refusing to make eye contact with his friend. He tried to pull his wrist free, clearly anxious to pick up the broken pieces that remained on the floor between them. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to, it just… slipped, and… and I couldn’t…”

“It’s okay,” Kris insisted. “Adam, it doesn’t matter…”

Adam didn’t seem to be hearing him, still focused on cleaning up the mess he’d made – as if by cleaning it, he could somehow fix the bigger mess that had been made of his life. Kris cursed his own carelessness in watching the program where Adam could so easily overhear.

 _If I’d only been_ thinking…

But it was too late to fix it now. All Kris could do at the moment was focus on damage control.

“Adam, I don’t care about the stupid cup,” he insisted gently. “It’s all right…”

Adam’s voice was trembling, apologetic, as he continued as if Kris hadn’t even spoken. “I… I tried to hold onto it but I… I couldn’t… couldn’t… I can’t… God, Kris, I _can’t_ …!”

All at once Adam gave up trying to pull away, his shoulders falling, trembling as he lowered his face into his free hand, shaking his head in defeat. Kris felt hot tears spring to his own eyes as he reached out a warm, steadying hand to clasp Adam’s shoulder, his other hand shifting from Adam’s wrist to gently pull his fingers forward and ease the dangerous grip he had on the broken pieces of glass.

“Hey,” he murmured soothingly, turning Adam’s hand so that most of the glass fell onto the floor again, drops of dark red mingling with the translucent brown on the white tile. “It’s okay, Adam. It’s all right. Shhh, easy… it’s gonna be okay, all right?”

Adam shook his head slowly, letting out a quiet sob. “No, it’s not,” he whispered. “It’s not.”

He looked up abruptly, and the sheer terror Kris saw in Adam’s wide blue eyes took his breath.

“He’s gonna kill me, Kris.” There was a dreadful certainty in Adam’s whispered words, and it sent an apprehensive shiver down Kris’s spine. “He’s gonna kill me when he sees that.”

“Adam… that doesn’t have to happen.” Kris’s voice trembled with the urgency he desperately wanted to convey to his friend. “I can help you. _I can help you_ , Adam – if you’ll let me. _Please_ …”

“ _No_ …”

Adam sobbed, trying to pull away, but Kris held on tight, his free hand slipping around Adam’s waist to hold him in place, refusing to allow him to retreat – and after a moment Adam surrendered, resting his head on Kris’s shoulder. His words were still filled with hopeless certainty, however, as he insisted tearfully,

“You don’t understand. You can’t help me, Kris. No one can.” He paused, his breath catching in his throat before he went on hesitantly. “I… I’m trapped. I can’t leave…”

Kris frowned, sensing that he was on the edge of discovering more of Adam’s secret – and with it, hopefully a way to help him escape. “Why not?” he whispered, gently stroking his hand slowly up and down Adam’s back. “Why can’t you leave him, Adam?”

“So many reasons…” Adam sounded sheerly exhausted, his voice hoarse and despairing. “I just… I can’t… you just… don’t understand…”

“Shhh,” Kris soothed him gently, running his hand slowly through his hair. “It’s okay, Adam. Come on, let’s get up, okay? You’re ruining your new pajamas.” There was a cautiously teasing note in Kris’s voice, testing the waters, trying to distract Adam from his panic. A moment later, all humor was gone as Kris looked down and noticed the red smears on the floor, mingling with the coffee slowly seeping into the soft fabric of Adam’s pants. “And… and you’re bleeding. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Adam was quiet and subdued, passively submitting as Kris led him to a chair in the kitchen and retrieved his first aid kit from under the sink. He carefully cleaned the half dozen or so tiny cuts on Adam’s hand before applying ointment to them and wrapping them in a soft white bandage.

“You know, a guy with only one good hand should be a little more careful what he does with it,” he gently chided him, giving Adam a warm, reassuring smile when he glanced up to uncertainly meet his gaze. Without waiting for a response, Kris glanced down at the red and brown stains on the knees of Adam’s pajamas and frowned as he asked softly, “How are your knees? Did you cut them?”

“No.” Adam’s voice was barely audible, his head bowed again in shame and submission. “It’s just… just from off the floor…”

Kris nodded. “Okay. Does your hand hurt? I’ve got some leftover painkillers from when I sprained my thumb a couple of months ago…”

“Yeah.” Adam nodded without looking up. “That’d be good. Thanks.”

Kris brought Adam two pills and a glass of milk, explaining with a little half-shrug, “You’re not supposed to take ‘em on an empty stomach.”

Adam eyed the milk with distaste, but obediently swallowed it down behind the pills. He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against the back of his hand, his elbow resting on the kitchen table. Kris edged nearer to him, gently putting his arms around him, gratified when Adam leaned into the embrace rather than pulling away.

“Come on,” Kris gently urged him, tugging him up by one arm and guiding him past the ignored mess in the doorway and into the living room.

He sat down, pulling Adam down into his arms and guiding his head down onto his lap, encouraging him to stretch out and get comfortable on the sofa. Adam did not resist, silent, but still seeming grateful for the tenderness and affection that had to be so rare for him these days. Kris turned off the television and rested a reassuring hand on Adam’s side, his free hand playing idly through Adam’s hair.

Within minutes, the pills had kicked in, and Adam was dozing again.

Kris sighed, feeling helpless – wishing he knew what to do to help his friend. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that his cell phone on the coffee table was flashing. He reached forward slowly, careful not to disturb Adam as he retrieved it. Kris’s eyes widened with surprise when he saw that in the twenty minutes or so that had passed since he’d last checked it, he’d missed more than a dozen calls.

 _Probably from my publicist,_ he realized with a grimace. _This whole_ TMZ _rumor might be a nightmare for Adam, but it isn’t exactly a_ positive _thing for me, either._

Kris stared in disbelief, however, when he scanned the list of missed calls and saw who they were from.

Only two were from his publicist.

Kris swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, as he cautiously slipped out from under Adam’s sleep-heavy frame and made his way quietly up the stairs to return the calls in private.


	23. Chapter 23

When Adam awakened a couple of hours later, it took him a moment to remember where he was – on an unfamiliar sofa, in a strange room, alone in a peaceful sort of quiet that never seemed to exist in his own home anymore.

 _Oh, right. Kris’s house._

He sat up slowly, blinking and glancing around the room, trying to get his bearings. His head felt heavy and muddled with a dull fog, and the first coherent thought that filled his mind was the realization that in the past forty-eight hours, he’d spent entirely too much time asleep. It took him a moment to remember why he’d gone to sleep again – and then it all came flooding back in a rush of humiliating memory.

He rose from the sofa, glancing toward the kitchen doorway where they’d left the shattered coffee cup in a mess of mingled coffee and blood. He blinked, not really surprised, but further embarrassed when he saw that Kris had already cleaned it up.

 _Of course he has. It’s been hours. You’ve been lying there sleeping away the last few hours you two have together, while he’s been cleaning up after your little mental breakdown…_

The thought of facing Kris made his face burn with shame, but Adam wanted to at least apologize for his behavior. He quietly headed toward the kitchen, unsure whether or not he hoped to find Kris there. He didn’t expect Kris to be angry or irritated with him, either for the mess or for his ungrateful behavior – but that was little comfort.

 The knowing expression of pity he expected to see on Kris’s face was infinitely worse than his anger would have been.

Adam stopped in the doorway, hesitating when he saw Kris sitting at the table, a steaming cup of fresh coffee in one hand and his cell phone in the other. He was staring down at the screen, pressing buttons with one hand, but after a moment he seemed to sense Adam’s presence. He looked up to give him a warm, pleased smile that betrayed neither of the emotions Adam had feared to see there.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Kris said quietly, his tone light and affectionate as he nodded toward the chair beside him. “Why don’t you get some coffee and come sit down?”

Adam complied, taking down a clean mug from the cupboard and filling it before sitting down a little awkwardly next to his friend. He cleared his throat, his eyes focused on the cup in front of him, as he tried to think of the right words to say. At last, he settled on a lame attempt at a joke that he hoped would break the tension.

“I’ll, um… try not to break this one…”

“Eh, don’t worry about it.” Kris shrugged. “I need one less these days, anyway, don’t I?”

The awkward silence descended again in the wake of Kris’s words. Adam knew he’d intended them to lighten the mood, but all they did was remind Adam that Kris was dealing with his own issues at the moment.

 _You’re just in the way here. Kris doesn’t need your shit on top of his own. Get out of here and let him get on with his life…_

Adam slowly came out of his thoughts to notice that Kris was staring at him, concern in his dark eyes and a worried frown creasing his brow. Adam gave him a smile that was a little too bright, too forced, before glancing down at the cell phone that Kris was turning over and over in his hand and seizing on it as another weak attempt at conversation.

“I don’t even wanna look at mine,” Adam confessed softly, nodding toward the phone. “I can’t imagine what my publicist must be thinking.”

Kris smiled ruefully. “Mine wasn’t too happy. She called me twice right after the show, and I had to spend a lot of time reassuring her that the rumors aren’t true – that we’re just friends and spending a little bit of time catching up.”

Adam nodded, his eyes lowered to absently watch as Kris continued to fidget with his phone. He felt a cold, sinking feeling in his stomach with the certain knowledge that such an explanation would do nothing to appease Jordan when he saw the _TMZ_ segment.

“I, uh… got some other unexpected calls, too.”

Something about Kris’s carefully neutral tone set off warning bells in Adam’s head, and he looked up sharply, fearfully searching Kris’s face. He felt sick to his stomach, a shiver of apprehension crawling up his spine. His voice was barely over a hoarse whisper when he managed to voice the question that filled his mind.

“F-from who?”

Kris didn’t answer for a moment, holding Adam’s gaze with a calm, speculative expression of concern. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft and cautious.

“Adam… how long has it been since you talked to your mother?”

*****************************************

Adam just stared blankly at Kris for so long that Kris began to wonder if he’d heard him at all. Then, Adam’s hands on his coffee cup began to shake, and he looked away, swallowing hard. He shook his head, pushing back his chair and bracing his hands against the table top as if to get up and walk away.

 _No. Sorry, Adam, but that is_ not _going to happen…_

Kris reached across the table to gently grasp Adam’s wrists and hold him in place so that he couldn’t get up, leaning forward and waiting until Adam met his eyes with indignation, lips parted to protest.

“Adam, don’t walk away from me, please. Just answer me. How long?”

“I-I can’t remember,” Adam mumbled, lowering his eyes but not pulling away from Kris’s grasp. “It’s been… a long time…”

Troubled by how passive and accepting Adam was of being so restrained, Kris let go of his wrists, backing off a little physically – but not verbally. “What happened, Adam?” he persisted, his voice firm and urgent. “Why haven’t you been talking to her?”

Adam bit his lip, shaking his head, his eyes stubbornly locked onto the table in front of him.

“After today it’s not gonna matter, right?” Kris’s voice was clipped and tight with the frustration he was trying so hard to restrain. “’Cause you’re going back to that _bastard_ no matter _what_ I say. So the least you can do is tell me the truth now, right? What’s it gonna hurt?”

Adam flinched at the unexpectedly harsh tone of Kris’s voice, and Kris felt a little guilty for his sharp words. However, that guilt was mostly assuaged by the fact that his tactics were effective. Adam’s shoulders fell, and he drew in a deep, shaky breath, crossing his arms defensively over his chest as he prepared to speak.

Kris held his breath. He hadn’t really expected that to work, but now that it had, he was afraid that any wrong move might drive Adam back into silent hiding.

“Jordan… um… he doesn’t really like it when I… when I talk to other people too much.”

The acceptance Kris heard in Adam’s voice – as if that was a normal and reasonable requirement for one’s boyfriend to make of him – started a smoldering flame of protective anger in the pit of Kris’s stomach. He kept his mouth shut, though, waiting for Adam to go on – not wanting to say anything to make him stop talking now that he’d started.

“It was… just my… my male friends at first, mostly.” Adam let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “He’s got it in his head that they all… all want me.” His smile faded as he continued, staring into the distance, lost in his own thoughts. “Then it was… my _other_ friends, because… they didn’t like him. And… when he found out that my… my mom didn’t like him, either…” Adam’s voice trailed off, and he lowered his head in a vain attempt to hide the tears that Kris could plainly see dropping onto the table.

“He told you… you couldn’t talk to your _mom_?” Kris was incredulous. “He’s got no right…!”

Adam tensed slightly, and Kris allowed his words to drop off, swallowing back the slow burning rage building up in his chest. Adam didn’t speak again, and Kris quickly adjusted his tone, unwilling to allow this chance to slip by because he was unable to control his anger at Jordan.

“So… you stopped calling her?”

Adam shrugged slightly, his voice soft and sad. “She’d already pretty much stopped calling _me_ at the time. I… I tried to call her a couple of times, when he wasn’t around, but… I didn’t tell her what he’d said… what he’d…” Adam bit his lip, shaking his head again. “And anyway, he found out. And… and he… wasn’t happy…”

Adam raised one hand to rub absently at his throat, still bruised from Jordan’s abuse a couple of nights prior, and Kris’s eyes widened with understanding. His fist clenched in his lap, and he unconsciously began twirling his phone again, faster than before, struggling to rein in his anger.

“A couple weeks after that, she… she came to the house. I heard security announce her over the intercom.” Adam’s mouth trembled slightly as he stared at the wall, the pain of the memory clear in his distant gaze. “He… told them to tell her to leave. That I… didn’t want to see her. She, uh… she didn’t believe him.” Adam laughed softly, sad affection in the sound for his mother who hadn’t given up on him so easily – hadn’t given up on him at all, though Kris was beginning to think that he probably didn’t know that. “She called the police.” Adam looked up at Kris with disbelief, shaking his head slightly. “She actually called the police and they came out to my house. Jordan… he told me to… to tell them that she was… trespassing, and… I didn’t want her there.”

Adam fell silent then, and the weight of his pain and guilt made the rest of the story clear. Kris reached out across the table, resting a supportive hand over Adam’s trembling fist on the table, silently encouraging him to go on.

**************************************

“That was… the last time I saw her.”

Adam’s voice was barely over a whisper, fresh tears brimming from his eyes and sliding down his face. He didn’t know why he was saying so much, didn’t know why the words just kept pouring out without anything to hold them back. Maybe it was just the knowledge that after this one last day of freedom and safety, he was going to be back with Jordan again, without opportunity to release the pain and regret he felt for all that had happened over the past year.

“I’m sure she… she wouldn’t even want to see me now.” He paused a moment before concluding, his words barely audible, yet still clearly conveying his defeat and guilt. “None of them would. I… I pushed everybody away, and now… now…” Adam shook his head again, raising his free hand to wipe at his eyes, his breath hitching in his throat as he fought back a sob. “I was… so stupid…”

He wasn’t surprised when Kris didn’t contradict him. It _was_ his own fault, all of it. Maybe if he’d seen it in time – maybe if he’d held his ground a little more strongly – but he hadn’t, and it was too late to go back now – too late to do anything but simply accept the lot he’d brought upon himself.

“Shhh, Adam, it’s okay…”

Adam flinched, caught off guard by the warm weight of Kris’s arms around his shoulders – then relaxed an instant later when he heard Kris’s familiar voice against his ear, and opened his eyes to see his friend kneeling in front of his chair, drawing him into a reassuring embrace.

“Adam, look at me.”

Adam obeyed, though shame seemed to weight his eyes, drawing them downward and making it difficult to meet Kris’s earnest, compassionate gaze. Kris waited until he was sure that Adam was paying attention to speak again, his words slow and deliberate.

“She called my phone four times in the twenty minutes after that segment aired. I’m sure if you checked your phone right now, you’d see that she’s called it a lot more than that.”

Adam froze, his eyes wide and wondering, scarcely daring to believe that what Kris was saying could be true. Kris smiled with affectionate understanding at the expression on his face, his hands warm and steadying on Adam’s shoulders as he continued.

“You wanna know who else I’d missed calls from who _never_ call me? Your dad. Your brother. Brad. Alisan. Danielle…” Kris shrugged slightly. “There were a couple of other numbers I didn’t recognize. Probably other friends of yours I don’t know.”

Adam couldn’t speak, could barely process what he was hearing. He just blinked, his lips parted dumbly as he shook his head slowly in disbelief.

“They _love_ you, Adam.” Kris’s voice was hushed, heavy with emotion. “They’re worried about you, and they all said the same thing: they’ve been trying to get a hold of you for _months_ , and don’t know why they haven’t been able to. They just want to know that you’re _safe…_ ”

Adam frowned, confused. That didn’t make sense. He hadn’t heard from any of his family or old friends in a year or more. How was it possible that they’d been trying to reach him that whole time? And he was only just now hearing about it – now when he was a few short hours away from not being able to contact them again? He shook his head, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. It was all just too much.

“I… I don’t want to… to talk to anybody…”

Kris’s gentle hands on his shoulders squeezed lightly, and Adam reluctantly looked up at him, uncertainty in his eyes. Kris’s dark eyes were pleading, urgent.

“Just your mom, Adam. At least just let her see you…”

“I… I can’t…” Adam shook his head emphatically, tears welling in his eyes again. He felt sick at the thought of the look on his mother’s face if she saw him – the betrayal and hurt that he’d put there with his last actions toward her. “After… after the last time…”

“I don’t think she cares about that anymore, Adam,” Kris insisted. “I think she’ll just be glad to see you at all…”

“I… wouldn’t know what to say…”

The sound of the doorbell ringing made Adam nearly jump out of his skin, and he turned toward the sound with wide, panicked eyes before looking back toward Kris with a silent question. Kris looked suddenly nervous, biting his lower lip for a moment as he gave Adam a look that was half hopeful, half apologetic – and suddenly, Adam’s heart clenched as he understood the reason for that look.

“ ‘I love you’ usually works, regardless of the occasion,” Kris suggested with a little shrug.

Panic rose up within him, and Adam scrambled out of his chair, pushing Kris back away from him and backpedaling across the kitchen toward the stairs. Kris hurriedly got to his feet and followed him, catching his arms before he could turn and flee.

“Adam, Adam, wait!” he insisted urgently. “It’s okay! This is _good_ , all right? _Trust_ me.”

Adam instinctively stopped fighting as soon as he felt Kris’s hands on him, his shoulders falling with defeat as he shook his head, tears streaming from his eyes.

“No,” he whimpered. “Kris, no, I can’t…”

“Adam… _trust me_ ,” Kris repeated firmly. When Adam raised pleading eyes toward him again, Kris insisted, “This is good. This is _right_ … okay? You have to _talk_ to her.” He paused before delivering the killing blow – the words which ensured that there was nothing Adam could do but give in. “You at least owe her _that_ – don’t you?”

Adam remembered the look of bewildered hurt and betrayal in his mother’s eyes when he’d obeyed Jordan’s demands and had the police show her off his property. He cringed, his face heated with shame as he imagined what she must think of him now – how rightly furious she probably was.

 _And you brought it on yourself,_ he reminded himself with self-directed disgust. _You deserve to hear it from her – and she deserves to say it._

The doorbell rang again, and Adam felt the weight of Kris’s questioning gaze on him, waiting for his decision. At last, his stomach sinking with dread, Adam nodded in acceptance. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

Kris leaned in impulsively to give him a tight, grateful hug, before drawing back to meet his eyes again.

“You’re not gonna regret this, Adam,” he promised softly, before rushing off to answer the door.

Adam just stood there, his arms wrapped around himself, trembling with dread and uncertainty – and regretting it already.


	24. Chapter 24

Kris opened the door to find a nervous but eager Leila Lambert on his doorstep.

“Where’s Adam?”

She hurried inside without waiting to be invited, immediately scanning the foyer and living room for any sign of her wayward son. Kris gently caught her arm, trying to get her to focus on him for a minute, as he led her into the living room.

“He’s in the kitchen…”

Leila immediately adjusted her course, but Kris blocked her path, meeting her indignant gaze with a solemn, pleading look.

“Let’s just… take this slow, okay?” he suggested with an apologetic grimace. “He’s really… he’s kinda skittish, and he’s freaking out just a little bit right now. Well, not just a little bit,” he amended. “He’s scared to death of Jordan, and of _leaving_ Jordan, and of talking to you, and… pretty much everything right now, so… so why don’t you just have a seat… and I’ll go get him. Okay?”

Leila’s expression made it clear that she saw the wisdom in Kris’s words – even if the last thing she wanted to do was to follow them. After a moment she nodded with a sigh of resignation and made her way to the sofa. Once she was sitting down, Kris turned toward the kitchen doorway, drawing in a deep breath, and hoping he wouldn’t get to the kitchen to find that Adam had fled the house out the back door.

That deep breath caught in his throat when he saw Adam standing in the kitchen doorway.

His eyes were wide and stricken, locked onto his mother’s face, his lips parted slightly and trembling. In the stillness that descended as both Kris and Leila became aware of his presence, the shallow, shaky breath he drew in was clearly audible. His good hand clutched the injured one, picking nervously at the bandage around it as he stood there, apparently unsure whether or not to proceed into the room. Leila stared back at him, her gaze so intent that suddenly, despite the fact that this was his home and he had facilitated this reunion, Kris felt as if he was intruding.

At last, Leila broke the silence, her voice soft with relief and affection, speaking nothing more than her son’s name, but with so much unmistakable love that it drew tears to Kris’s eyes to hear it.

“ _Adam_ …”

Adam was across the room before Kris even saw him move, stunning both Kris and Leila when he fell to his knees beside the sofa, one hand on either side of his mother’s legs, his forehead pressed against her knee. He was shaking violently, his shoulders trembling, though he didn’t make a sound. Cautiously, as though he might break if she applied too much pressure, Leila lowered one gentle hand to stroke the back of his head, soothing and reassuring.

It was a wordless absolution, an offer of forgiveness that gave Adam the courage to ask for it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice choked with tears. “Mom, I’m so sorry…”

Tears slipped down Leila’s face as she bowed her body over her son’s head, her arms wrapped around him in a shielding gesture. “It’s all right, Adam,” she murmured, her voice thick with tears. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetie… nothing…”

Adam raised his head, and she sat up again to meet his red-rimmed eyes as he looked up at her. “I didn’t want to do it, Mom,” he confessed, pleading and broken. “I didn’t mean to… to hurt you, I just…” He shook his head, covering his face with his hand for a moment in shame. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to forgive me. And when you didn’t… didn’t call again, I just thought… I thought…”

“Adam.” Leila frowned with confusion, her voice becoming firmer as she tilted his chin up, encouraging him to face her. “Look at me, Adam.”

Reluctantly he met her eyes, and she held his gaze intently, her words slow and certain. “I called and called, Adam. Over and over again. Every day, for… for so long.”

Adam shook his head, bewildered by yet another account of his loved ones trying to reach him – an account that the reality of his phone log didn’t back up. “I don’t get it,” he whispered. “I didn’t get any calls. I don’t understand why…”

“Adam, where’s your phone?” Kris sat down on the sofa on Adam’s other side, placing a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention. “Do you have it?”

“It’s upstairs, by the bed.”

“Be right back.” Kris hurried upstairs, taking them several at a time, returning in triumph with Adam’s phone held high. “A couple of missed calls from your publicist, but that’s it,” he announced before turning toward Leila. “How many times did you try calling him when you saw the show?”

“At least half a dozen – not that I expected it to do any good,” Leila confessed with a sad little half-shrug, sliding her thumb across her son’s tear-streaked face in a gesture of sympathy and affection. “You hadn’t answered my calls for so long…”

Adam took the phone from Kris’s hand, inspecting the missed calls list for himself. He shook his head slowly, frowning in confusion as he stared at the screen. “I don’t understand…”

“He must have blocked your calls somehow, Adam,” Kris explained. “I know if you’re getting unwanted calls, it’s easy enough to have the phone company block a certain number. What if he called them and had your mom’s number blocked, and didn’t tell you about it? And – and the other numbers, too. We should call the phone company to be sure, but… but that’s probably what happened.”

Adam’s eyes widened as he processed that idea, struggling to reconcile it with everything Jordan had been telling him for the past year.

 _See? I told you they don’t really care about you. If they did, don’t you think they would have called at least once in the last few months? They’ve moved on, Adam – and you should, too._

 _You don’t need them, anyway. You’ve got me._

“Adam, honey?” His mother’s voice drew him out of his troubled thoughts, and Adam looked up at her, wide-eyed and a little dazed. “Come here,” she urged him gently, pulling at his arms, tugging him up toward her. “Come up here on the couch with us, Adam, there’s no reason for you to be down there…”

Adam obeyed, subdued and quiet. Once he was seated beside her, Leila reached out to turn his face toward her again, her mouth twitching with visible anger as she took in the livid bruises that stained his mouth, his cheek, his throat. Adam’s face burned with shame, and he lowered his eyes, hating that she was seeing him like this. The tenderness in her soft words drew stinging tears to his eyes as she pressed gently.

“Adam… what did he do to you, baby? Tell me.”

Adam shook his head, pulling away from her gentle hand and turning his face away.

“Come on, Adam. Talk to me,” she persisted, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

The unconditional love and affection in her embrace was more than Adam could resist. He didn’t know what he was going to do next, or how he was going to be able to stand to go back to Jordan after this. All he knew was that there was no way he could bring himself to pull away from the sweet comfort that was being offered to him now, despite the fact that it was the last thing he deserved. He didn’t realize he’d broken down crying until he heard his mother’s soft, shushing sounds in his ear as her hand cupped the back of his head, allowing him to hide his face against her shoulder.

“It’s all right,” she whispered. “Talk to me, Adam. Come on. It’s okay.”

Adam just closed his eyes and listened to the soothing sound of the voice that had always been able to ease his fears, no matter what their source. He could still hear Jordan’s threatening words in his mind, warning him away from telling any more than he’d already told – but gradually, they began to be drowned out by the tender reassurance in his mother’s voice. As she quietly coaxed him in hushed tones to open up, to tell her all about the torment he’d endured over the course of the last year, Adam slowly became aware that there was nothing he wanted more.

 _Don’t do it… don’t say anything… he’ll kill you…_

 _But… he’ll kill you anyway…_

 _Oh, God, I don’t know how this happened! How did I even get here?_

********************************************

“I don’t know how this _happened_! How did I even _get_ here?”

Adam’s breathless, halting words were barely distinguishable against the shoulder of his mother’s shirt – but Kris’s heart leapt, and he found himself holding his breath with the realization that in a matter of moments, Leila Lambert had accomplished what he’d spent the last few days trying to do, with very little success – she’d gotten Adam talking.

“It wasn’t always like this,” Adam whispered, drawing back slightly from his mother’s embrace, his eyes still closed, as if he could only bring himself to open up if he could pretend they weren’t actually there to hear it. “He wasn’t… he didn’t…”

“I know,” Leila murmured, her voice soothing and encouraging. “I know, Adam… they never are…”

“It’s all my fault,” Adam insisted, and the self-directed disgust in his voice made Kris seethe with anger at the monster who’d managed to so twist his thoughts as to make him actually _believe_ that. “I’m just… always doing these… s-stupid things, and…”

“Adam Mitchel Lambert.” Leila’s voice was suddenly severe and sharp, and she drew back, waiting for Adam to meet her eyes. “This is _not_ your fault. Do you understand me? There is nothing you could have done that would give him the right to…” Her voice trailed off as she raised a hand to trace the edge of the angry, finger-shaped marks that scored his neck. Adam flinched slightly, looking down self-consciously, and Leila’s voice and expression softened with sorrow as she repeated, “It’s not your fault, Adam. It’s not.”

Adam nodded hurriedly, and it was clear that the gesture was not an indication that he believed her, but simply an attempt to get her to move the conversation along.

“It’s all right,” Leila continued, raising a hand to brush Adam’s hair back from his face. “You’re away from him now. I know he’s been… messing with your head, sweetie, but you’ll realize after you’ve been away from him for a while…”

Kris tensed as she went on, bracing himself for the inevitable and wishing he’d thought to tell her that Adam was not planning on leaving Jordan. As it turned out, no one had to tell her. The look on Adam’s face when she talked about it was more than enough to let her see the truth. Her words broke off abruptly, and a heavy, uncomfortable silence fell over the room. At last, Leila broke it, a warning edge to her voice.

“Adam… you’re _not_ going back to him…”

Adam tensed, closing his eyes and drawing in a slow, shaky breath.

“Adam, you _can’t_!” Leila insisted, her voice rising with alarm. “After what he’s done to you? _Adam_ …!”

Over Adam’s head, Kris frantically shook his head at her, making cutting motions with his hand to try to get her to back off a little. He’d spent the last few days desperately trying not to scare Adam right back into Jordan’s clutches. The last thing they needed was for Leila to push him into running now. Leila just shot a warning glare in Kris’s direction, her eyes clearly conveying the wordless message that she was certain she knew her son better than he did, and knew best how to deal with this situation.

Kris hoped that she was right.

“I can’t…” Adam stammered, miserable and self-conscious, his eyes wide and focused on his bandaged hand in his lap. “I can’t… can’t leave him.”

“Why not?” Leila asked. “Sweetie, you could do so much better than that…”

“There’s just… just too much.” Adam shook his head, exhaustion creeping into his voice. “It’s too much to even get into…”

“Adam.” Kris kept his tone casual and quiet. “We _literally_ have all day. Doesn’t matter how long the story is. We’d both like to hear it – as much as you want to tell.”

Leila nodded, casting a grateful look in Kris’s direction and gently squeezing Adam’s shoulders. “Come on, Adam,” she urged him. “Why can’t you leave him?”

“It’s all just so… so complicated,” Adam sighed, leaning forward and resting his head in his good hand. “There are so many reasons, I just…” He fell silent for a moment, and neither Kris nor Leila said a word, simply waiting for him to gather his thoughts and go on. “He’s done _everything_ with me for the last year… _everything_. And he… he _controls_ everything…”

“No, he doesn’t, Adam,” Kris stated quietly, reaching out a hand to rest supportively on Adam’s shoulder. “He just wants you to think that.”

“No, he does. You don’t understand,” Adam whispered, shaking his head despairingly. “He… he _controls… everything_.” He was quiet a moment, biting his lip in hesitation, unable to look at either of them as he finally let out his explanation in a shaky rush. “I… I signed over control of my accounts to him. My… my checking and savings accounts, my credit cards… Even the house is in his name.” Adam glanced up at Kris, quickly looking away from the shock in his eyes. “I… I didn’t forget the code to get in the other night. I… I never had it. He… sets a new code every day, and… and he wouldn’t give it to me.”

“So… you couldn’t get into the house… unless he was with you.”

Kris couldn’t keep a tremor of anger out of his voice at the realization of the humiliating position in which Jordan had deliberately left Adam – and the fact that in spite of it all, Adam still intended to stay with him. Adam nodded silently, biting his lip again, though this time it appeared to be an attempt to disguise its trembling.

“I thought the house was in _your_ name, Adam.” Leila frowned with concern, her horror at the depth of the situation in which Adam had found himself clear in her eyes.

“It was. He… asked me to… I mean… I signed it over to him.” Adam was quiet a moment, his eyes downcast, his voice barely audible when he went on. “I know. I was stupid, but…”

“But you didn’t think you had a choice,” Kris finished for him, gently squeezing his shoulder. “We get it, Adam. But… you _do_ have a choice now. Okay? You don’t have to go back to him.”

“All those things you mentioned,” Leila cut in, leaning in close and searching her son’s face closely, earnestly, “all those things he took from you – we can get all that back, Adam. We can talk to a lawyer. I’m sure that you can get it all back in your name. We just have to prove that you signed it away under duress…”

“No,” Adam objected, looking up at her with alarm in his eyes, shaking his head. “No, I can’t go to the cops. I’d rather… rather lose it all…”

“Even if you _do_ lose it all,” Kris pointed out, “it’s not worth your life. _Nothing_ is worth your life. And… he almost killed you this time, Adam. If I… if I hadn’t walked in…” Kris allowed his words to trail off at the sick look of horror on Leila’s face, and swallowed hard, struggling to maintain his own composure as he focused on Adam again. “You can’t go back to him. If you don’t leave him, he’ll kill you…”

“If I _do_ leave him, he’ll kill me,” Adam whispered, his eyes wide and haunted as he stared at the floor a few yards in front of him, worrying at the bandage on his injured hand with the other. “One way or another, he’ll get to me, and… and he’ll kill me.”

“He’ll have to come through us first,” Leila declared, her voice trembling with protective fury.

“There’s only so much he can do, Adam,” Kris reminded him. “He’s not super-human. I have great security here. You can stay here with me as long as you like, and as long as you’re not alone for a while…”

“We can get a restraining order against him,” Leila suggested. “So he can’t come near you.”

“I-I don’t wanna call the police,” Adam repeated, his voice small and fearful as he looked between them pleadingly. “Please…”

“Okay, no, we don’t have to, Adam,” Kris hurried to assure him, meeting Leila’s eyes with a warning look. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, but… but we just want you to know… you have options, okay? You don’t have to go back to him.”

Adam nodded silently, his eyes averted self-consciously. His shoulders were fallen and trembling, his arms wrapped defensively around himself, and Kris wasn’t sure whether they’d done more damage or good.

 _It doesn’t matter,_ he told himself. _We had to try._

“Don’t pick him up tomorrow, Adam,” Leila pleaded softly. “Don’t go there. Just… just stay here a little while longer, and I’ll stay, too. Okay? Just… please. Just wait a little while before you make any decision. All right?”

Adam nodded again, subdued and accepting – but Kris wondered how much of that reaction was simply a deeply ingrained response to Jordan’s abuse. He also wondered how long it would take Jordan to get Adam down to the jail to pick him up, with nothing more than a single phone call. He fought back a rising sense of despair and frustration as the reality of the situation sank in once more.

 _Jordan isn’t all-powerful. He’s just a jerk on a power kick who’s convinced Adam that he can do anything he wants to him. Problem is, as long as Adam_ thinks _he can… then… he_ can.


	25. Chapter 25

After his much-needed but emotionally exhausting reunion with his mother, it was clear to both Leila and Kris that Adam had had more than enough for a while. They spent the rest of the day trying to keep his mind off Jordan, and what he still believed he needed to do the next morning. They watched movies and told stories about things that had happened to them over the course of the last year, and tried their best to keep Adam distracted.

It seemed to work… mostly.

After a brief conversation with Leila in the kitchen, Kris decided that it was best to honor Adam’s wishes regarding his concerned friends who’d called Kris’s phone, and not push him to contact them. Adam was having a hard enough time just dealing with Kris and Leila; the last thing he needed was to add a dozen more people with their questions and worries to the mix. There would be plenty of time to contact them all later, and let them know – however much of the story Adam wanted them to know.

 _For now, though… we have to focus on finding a way to keep him here. We have to keep Jordan from getting his hands on him again._

 _**************************************_

Adam woke up Monday morning with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He glanced at the clock beside the bed, noting that it was just after eight, then rolled over in the bed to see that Kris was still sleeping – on top of the covers – in the spot next to Adam that he had occupied the night before, when Adam had drifted off. He’d said it was “just until you fall asleep” but apparently Kris had fallen asleep there as well. Adam looked at the clock again as a heavy, choking sense of dread began to creep over him.

 _Court starts at nine… which means that Jordan will be expecting me there by about… now…_

Adam swallowed hard, fighting back the nausea rising in the back of his throat at the thought of Jordan’s reaction if he got out of court and didn’t find Adam waiting for him. He sat up, rising to his feet on shaking legs and hurrying toward the closet. He got dressed in a rush, glancing guiltily over his shoulder every now and then for any sign that Kris might be waking up.

 _He’d try to stop me. He doesn’t want me to go, but… but I_ have _to. If I don’t…_

Adam didn’t want to think about what would happen if he didn’t go.

Once he was dressed, he slipped quietly out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen, where he picked up the phone book in one hand and his cell phone off the counter in the other. He walked to the living room doorway, and then back toward the stairway, looking for any sign that he might not be alone, as he swiftly dialed the number for the nearest taxi service.

“Yes, um… I need a ride as soon as possible. The address is…”

“Adam. What are you doing?”

Adam looked up through wide, trapped eyes to see a sleepy, tousle-headed Kris standing in the doorway between the stairs and the kitchen, a troubled expression on his face as he looked back and forth between Adam’s guilty expression and the phone book in his hands. Adam froze, barely noticing the confused voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello? Are you there?”

He swallowed slowly, disconnecting the call and setting the phone book down on the counter, his eyes focused on the floor at his feet as Kris slowly, cautiously closed the distance between them.

“Adam… Adam, you can’t go down there. You know that…”

“I don’t have a choice.” Adam’s voice was thick with unshed tears, his vision blurring as his eyes filled with stinging, hot moisture. “Kris… please… don’t try to stop me from doing this…”

“Sorry, but… I _have_ to try,” Kris replied, gently wrapping one hand around Adam’s fist, tightly clenched around his cell phone. “Adam, please… look at me…” Kris waited until Adam reluctantly complied to go on, and Adam was struck by the earnest, pleading expression on his friend’s face. “You’re _safe_ here – do you understand that? He _cannot_ get to you here. Okay? So… why would you willingly go back to him, knowing that he’s just going to… to do something awful to you, just for spending a little bit of time with the people who love you? Why would you do that, when you _don’t have to_ , Adam?”

“But… I _do_ have to.”

Adam insisted in a broken whisper, shaking his head and raising his hands to cover his face in confusion. He was trembling all over, inside and out. It felt as if he was breaking apart inside. He didn’t know what to do anymore – couldn’t make sense of anything. It was as if his entire world had turned upside down overnight, and all the rules he knew he had to obey to simply survive no longer applied – except that they _did_ , he _knew_ they did, and if he didn’t do what he was supposed to do, if he didn’t keep Jordan happy, then something terrible was going to happen, he just _knew_ it would…

“Adam… Adam, _breathe_. Look at me.”

The fear in Kris’s voice drew Adam out of the panic he’d been sliding into, and he looked up at Kris, gasping in short, shallow breaths that didn’t seem to be doing any good. He shook his head pleadingly, the cell phone falling from his shaking hand onto the floor, as he backed away from Kris until his back hit the wall behind him.

“Adam, you’re okay. All right? You’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt you, okay?” Kris’s voice was gentle and soothing, and Adam found himself nodding, gratefully clinging to the reassurances he wanted so desperately to believe. Kris gave him an apologetic grimace as he added hesitantly, “As… as long as you don’t go back to Jordan. As long as you… as you stay here… no one can touch you. Please, Adam. Just… don’t go.”

Adam didn’t know what he was doing, or why he was doing it – but suddenly he wanted nothing more than to simply obey Kris’s gentle urgings and stay in this place where he’d felt so loved and sheltered and _safe_ for the past few days – a few short days that had been overshadowed by the knowledge that when they came to an end, he’d have to return to the hellish nightmare that his life had been reduced to.

 _But… do they_ have _to end? Maybe… maybe Kris is right. Maybe I can… can stay here, with Kris, and Mom, and..._

He looked up at Kris with a puzzled frown, momentarily distracted. “Where’s… where’s my mom?”

“She went to work, but she’ll be back this afternoon,” Kris explained. “And it’d break her heart if you weren’t here when she got back.”

It was a low blow, and they both knew it – but it was no less effective for that knowledge.

“Come on. Let’s go sit down.”

Kris put a gentle arm around Adam’s shoulders and led him toward the living room, where he put a DVD into the player – though neither of them could focus enough to really watch it. Adam kept glancing nervously at the clock on the DVD player, and Kris just gently squeezed his shoulders in silent reassurance, trying to remind him that he was safe here, and no matter how angry Jordan might get with him, he couldn’t get to him here.

After a little while, Adam sat up straight, letting out a shaky sigh. “I’m thirsty,” he explained quietly. “You want anything?”

“Yeah, a Coke would be good,” Kris agreed with a smile and a nod. “Thanks.”

Adam got up and made his way into the kitchen. His legs felt strangely shaky and leaden beneath him, and his head spun with the panic that was barely being held at bay by Kris’s constant reassurances. Still, he tried not to think about Jordan, and what time it was, and what Jordan must be thinking by now – tried not to think about anything at all – as he got out a couple of cans of soda from the refrigerator and two glasses from the cabinet, filling them both with ice.

Just then, Adam heard a familiar rhythmic vibrating sound, and his heart leapt into his throat with recognition. He looked in the direction of the sound to see his forgotten cell phone, still lying on the floor where it had fallen – flashing and vibrating as someone tried to call him. Adam swallowed back the sick feeling in the back of his throat, his mouth suddenly painfully dry. He glanced toward the kitchen doorway, wondering if Kris had heard the sound, before picking up the phone and looking at the screen.

His stomach dropped with fear, and he sat down hard in one of the kitchen chairs, staring down at the name he’d known he’d see there.

 _Jordan._

He hesitated only a moment, taking a deep breath, before hitting the receive button and holding the phone to his ear.

“Adam?” Jordan’s voice was strangely calm and measured, and Adam felt a familiar apprehensive chill run down his spine at the tone. “Adam… where are you, baby?”

Adam opened his mouth to answer, but found that he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He didn’t know what to say. He certainly couldn’t tell Jordan where he was.

“Adam, are you there?” Jordan persisted, impatience creeping into his tone. “I just posted bail. Why aren’t you here?”

“I… I…” Adam stammered weakly, closing his eyes and trying to shut out the cacophony of panic in his mind, trying to focus enough to form an answer. “I just… um… you really scared me, Jordan. I… I’m not sure I… want to…”

“Adam.” Jordan’s voice softened with sympathy and regret, and Adam felt fresh tears spring to his eyes at the sound. “Adam, I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know how much I love you.”

“I love you, too, Jordan, but… but you… told me you wouldn’t _do_ this again. You said you were sorry, and… and…” Adam’s voice broke over the words, and he lowered his face against the back of his injured hand, his next words coming out in a hoarse sob. “I thought you were going to… you almost…”

“Adam, listen to me.” Jordan’s tone was still gentle, but held a firm, unyielding note of command that made Adam struggle to focus on his words. He knew better by now than to ignore that tone. “Adam – I was just trying to… to get through to you. I would have stopped. You _know_ I would have stopped. Adam, I _love_ you! There’s no way I could ever… Adam, just… just come down here, okay? I hate talking about this over the phone. Just… come down here and pick me up, and we’ll go home and talk this out – okay?”

Adam hesitated, his heart racing, his thoughts muddled and uncertain. He thought of Kris in the living room, waiting for him to come back – thought of what Kris would think of him, how disappointed he’d be if Adam gave in to Jordan’s demands and went to pick him up. He thought of his mother, and the fear and sorrow he’d seen in her eyes – for _him_ , deserved or not.

“Jordan, I… um… I think I need… I just need some… time.” Adam stumbled over the words, his voice timid and uncertain. “Please, just… just go home, and… and I’ll be there, but… but right now… I need…”

“What you _need_ …” Jordan cut him off sharply, a warning edge in his voice replacing its former deceptive gentleness. “… is to get your _ass_ down here right now and pick me up. You wanna pull your stupid, pointless little mind games with me and try to hold what happened over my head? Well, I’m not playing, Adam. I’m telling you you’d better get down here _now_ , or so help me, when I get my hands on you, you’ll _wish_ I’d choked the life out of you in that dressing room, do you hear me?”

Adam flinched, shaking his head pleadingly in response to the vicious threats, despite the fact that Jordan couldn’t see him, couldn’t touch him. “No,” he whispered, tears streaking his face. “Jordan, I’m sorry… please…”

“Are you _crying_ , Adam?” There was contempt in Jordan’s voice as he interrupted Adam again. “Are you crying _again_?”

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Just get down here, before I _make_ you sorry, do I make myself clear?”

Adam nodded, feeling his resolve crumbling under the weight of Jordan’s oppressive words, swallowing back a sob and opening his mouth to assure Jordan that he would be there as quickly as he could. Before he could get a word out, however, the phone was taken from his hand, and he looked up through startled, tearful eyes to see Kris standing beside him.

He tried to rise, to take the phone back, but Kris pressed a gentle but firm hand down on his shoulder, preventing the motion, as he held the phone up to his own ear, his mouth set in a taut line, his eyes narrowed with cold fury.

“Let me make _myself_ clear.” Kris’s voice was quiet and controlled, and every bit as frightening as Jordan’s had been. Adam was grateful that the dangerous rage he heard there was not directed at him. “Adam is not going anywhere with you. You’re not going to come near him again. And if you try – forget jail, you’ll be in the _hospital_ so fast your head will spin, and you won’t be getting out after just a weekend.”

Adam held his breath, and for a moment there was only utter silence as he waited for the impending explosion. He braced himself, inwardly cringing, trembling in dread of Jordan’s reaction. He was certain that when Jordan spoke, he would be able to hear him clearly, despite the fact that Kris had the phone.

He was not wrong.

“Who is this?” Jordan finally demanded, and Adam flinched away from the anger in his thunderous words. “Kris? Kris Allen?”

“Yeah.” Kris nodded, gently squeezing Adam’s shoulder in a gesture of reassurance as he continued. “And you’d better be listening. I’m pretty sure I heard Adam tell you that he doesn’t want to pick you up. He needs some time – and that’s his right. And I’m Adam’s friend, and I _care_ about his rights – and if you really loved him, you would, too. So… if you try to come near him again, you’ll regret it. Don’t call him again – don’t try to come here. If he wants to talk to you, he’ll call. Otherwise – leave him alone.”

“Listen, you little punk…”

Kris disconnected the call before Jordan could say anything else, and Adam flinched, staring in stunned disbelief – and maybe a little bit of awe – between Kris’s resolute face and the phone clutched in his hand. As he watched, the phone began to light up and vibrate again – but Kris just held the red button down until the phone shut off, going dark and still.

“See?” he murmured, giving Adam a warm, reassuring smile. “It’s that easy.”

Adam stared at the phone as Kris tucked it into his pocket. When he looked up at Kris’s face again, Kris was frowning with concern and uncertainty.

“This is okay, right?” he asked. “Let me just… hold onto it? He’s just gonna try to harass you about this.”

Adam nodded slowly, still trying to process what had just happened.

Kris looked down at him through troubled eyes filled with love and compassion for a long moment, before speaking in a soft, certain tone that carried a profound promise.

“I’m not going to let him hurt you again, Adam. Not… not physically, and not… any other way, either. I told you… you’re safe here. And… I meant it.”

Adam blinked back tears, lowering his head slightly as Kris cautiously wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a warm hug. Adam tensed for just a moment before relaxing into the embrace, his face pressed against Kris’s stomach as he wrapped his arms around his friend to return the affectionate gesture.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Kris murmured, crouching down after a moment so that they were on the same level. “It’s okay, Adam… it’s all right…”

Adam held on as if for his very life, burying his face against Kris’s shoulder and whispering soft, heartfelt words over and over with fervent intensity – words of gratitude for Kris being able to do for him what he couldn’t have done for himself.

“Thank you, Kris… thank you… thank you…”


	26. Chapter 26

“Yes… I’m going to need two additional guards, one at each of the other doors. And I need to talk to someone about personal security to accompany my guests when leaving the house.”

Kris paced back and forth, his cell phone to his ear, as Adam sat at the kitchen table nervously watching him. It had only taken a couple of minutes for the relief and safety he’d felt when Kris hung up on Jordan to fade into fear and uncertainty again. As he half-listened to Kris’s conversation with the representative from his security company, all Adam could think about was how furious Jordan had to be now, and what he would certainly do to him the next time he saw him.

 _What he’ll do to me… and what he’ll do to_ Kris. _God, I can’t let that happen… not to Kris, not after everything he’s done for me…_

“Yeah, we’ve had, um… a couple of threats. Yeah, like… a stalker or something. Okay, thank you so much. Bye.”

Kris turned toward Adam, but the reassurances forming on his lips didn’t have time to leave them before Adam was already on his feet and talking.

“Look, Kris, this was a bad idea…”

Kris’s eyes widened with alarm. “Adam…” His tone was warning, careful.

“No, seriously,” Adam insisted, unable to keep the tremor from his voice – and unable to meet Kris’s searching gaze. “You know, I actually do have a stalker, and like… you don’t need to have to deal with that, and Jordan, too. I really just need to… to go home, and… take care of this myself. Really. You don’t have to worry…”

“ _Adam_ ,” Kris repeated, taking a couple of cautious steps toward Adam and gently putting his hands on his arms. Adam could feel Kris’s gaze on him, silently begging him to make eye contact, but he kept his eyes focused stubbornly on the floor. “Adam, it’s too late for that. I’m already gonna worry, no matter what… and you can’t go back to that guy. I can’t let you do that…”

Adam felt sick to his stomach, his heart racing with impending panic, and suddenly Kris was too close, too familiar. The simple, reassuring contact of his hands was too much, and Adam felt claustrophobia closing in on him. He took a couple of shaky steps backward, pulling away from Kris’s touch, and Kris immediately backed off, hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, it’s just…” Adam shook his head, trying to focus on what he’d intended to say rather than his guilt over Kris’s reaction. “At least give me my phone back, okay? I changed my mind. I should at least… call, and… and explain…”

“Adam, you don’t owe that creep an explanation.” Kris’s voice hardened slightly, trembling with anger, and Adam’s stomach clenched in an automatic reaction to the tone. “You don’t owe him _anything_ , do you understand me? If you want to just walk away and never think of him again – that’s your right. After what he’s done to you…”

Adam shook his head again, raising his hands to cover his face as he drew in a couple of deep, shaky breaths, struggling for control of his tumultuous emotions. He was so confused, terrified but not sure exactly of what, desperate to do _something_ to fix this mess he’d made – but unsure what to do, unsure whether or not there was anything he _could_ do at this point. Overshadowing it all was a dark sense of shame and disgust at his own weakness, his own pathetic inability to deal with his own problems.

Adam suddenly realized that he was shaking. His face flushed with self-conscious embarrassment, and he wrapped his arms around himself, struggling to conceal his vulnerability from Kris’s eyes – and only succeeding in making it more obvious, apparently, because Kris closed the distance between them once more, speaking in a soft, gentle tone that only intensified Adam’s shame.

“It’s okay, Adam. Hey… come here…”

Adam jerked away from Kris’s hand as if it burned him, shaking his head and backing toward the doorway. “No,” he snapped, the word coming out with a bit more venom than he had intended. “I’m not a child, Kris. I don’t need you to… to hold my hand or whatever.”

“Okay.” Kris’s voice was small and uncertain, and Adam felt guilty again. “It’s your choice, Adam. Whatever you need.”

Adam looked up to meet Kris’s eyes, putting as much defiance as he could muster in his expression. “If it’s my choice, then give me my phone.”

***************************************

Kris hesitated, torn.

He didn’t want to give Adam back his cell phone, not when he had proven with the last phone call that a few moments on the phone with Jordan was all it took to reduce him to an obedient, terrified wreck. And yet, he didn’t feel that he had the right to refuse Adam something that was clearly his – the phone _or_ the decision.

 _If I take his choices away from him… then that makes me just as bad as Jordan…_

“What’s going on, boys?” Kris and Adam both looked up to see Leila standing in the kitchen doorway, a concerned frown on her face as she looked between them, taking in the tense scene. “Did, uh… did something happen while I was gone?”

“Jordan called, but I told him to get lost,” Kris announced, trying not to sound too pleased with himself – and failing. He never _had_ possessed much of a poker face. “I told him Adam didn’t want to talk to him or see him, and not to bother trying again.”

Leila smiled, nodding in approval. “That’s great. Maybe he’ll back off…”

Her voice trailed off as Adam slipped past her through the doorway, turning at the base of the stairs to fix them both with a seething glare, biting off his words in a scathing tone. “You know, I’m so _glad_ you two are so happy about the mess you’re making of _my_ life!”

His rapid, heavy footsteps on the stairs were loud and ominous in the stunned silence that descended in his wake, punctuated by the slam of the bedroom door – shutting them out. Kris hesitated a moment, then took a step toward the stairs. Leila’s hand on his arm stopped him.

Kris frowned. “Don’t you think we should check on him?”

Leila shook her head, a pensive smile on her lips as she looked up the stairs. “Maybe this is a _good_ thing, Kris.” When he just tilted his head in confusion, she continued, holding his gaze with a light of hope shining in her eyes. “When do you think was the last time that Adam actually got angry enough to stand up for himself about _anything_?”

*****************************************

Adam sat on the bed, his back against the headboard, his knees drawn up in front of him and his arms wrapped around them. He was shaking, his face buried against his arms as he tried to shut out the maddening tumult of thoughts and feelings that filled his head.

 _I’m going crazy… that must be what this is. I’m losing my mind._

Something deep within him was pushing him to insist on taking his phone back, to call Jordan and beg for his forgiveness and go home, consequences be damned. After all, the consequences were certain to be worse, the longer he continued to defy Jordan’s wishes. He just needed to _talk_ to him – to find out where they stood.

 _Maybe if I just… explain to him what happened, and how freaked out I was, and how much I still love him and how sorry I am… maybe he’ll forgive me and it’ll all be okay…_

 _Or maybe he’ll kill me before I can get a word out._

Adam felt as if he couldn’t breathe. The room was closing in on him, too loud and overwhelming despite the fact that he was alone in silence. He took in several slow, deep breaths, trying to calm his frayed nerves and regain some semblance of control.

A soft knock on the door drew his attention, and he looked up automatically, but made no move to answer or open it.

After a moment, it opened just a little, and Kris peeked inside.

“Hey. Mind if I come in?”

Adam didn’t answer, just rolled his eyes and turned his head away. Somehow, Kris’s eternally optimistic mind interpreted that response as permission to enter. He opened the door the rest of the way, closing it quietly behind him before making his way toward the combination DVD player and television across from the bed. Adam frowned, watching with grudging curiosity as Kris turned the device on and put in a DVD that Adam hadn’t even noticed he was holding. Adam gave Kris a questioning look of confusion, but Kris just smiled as he climbed onto the bed and sat down beside Adam, mirroring his position perfectly.

Since he was obviously not going to get any answers from Kris, Adam focused his attention on the screen in front of him. His eyes widened with surprise when he saw that it was a mostly clear, if slightly shaky, recording of one of their finale performances from the Idol tour. The joyful melody filled the room, and stirred Adam’s memory, taking him back to a time when he had been depressed and hurting, rejected and embarrassed – but strong, and confident, and certain through it all of who he was and where he was heading.

He was none of those things anymore.

Adam stared at the screen, watching the image of himself as he strutted across the stage, smirking at the adoring audience and toying with their affections – utterly sure of himself and thrilled in that moment to be right where he was, on that stage.

“This is who you are, Adam.”

Adam blinked, the reverie broken by Kris’s soft words. He glanced down self-consciously, but found that he couldn’t look away for long. His eyes were drawn back toward the happy memory of his past. He swallowed hard, feeling choked with tears that rose behind his eyes at the certainty that Kris was wrong.

 _That isn’t who you are anymore…_

“That’s how strong you are – and that’s exactly what he’s been trying to break down.” There was quiet insistence in Kris’s voice, as if he’d somehow read the silent insecurities in Adam’s mind. “But he can’t.” Kris paused, clarifying, “You don’t have to let him.”

Adam had no words to respond, so they simply sat there in silence a few moments longer, as Adam watched his friends on the screen, enjoying their brief but wonderful time together. His attention was distracted a moment later, however, as Kris’s hand moved in front of him, drawing his gaze. Adam’s eyes widened with surprise when he saw his cell phone in Kris’s extended hand.

“You’re right, Adam. This is _your_ choice,” Kris explained softly. “And… it’ll kill me to see you walk back into the arms of that guy who… who hurt you so much, but… if you do… that’s your call to make.” Kris was quiet a moment, unable to keep back his added advice. “It’d be the _wrong_ call, but… anyways… just wanted to give this back to you.”

Without waiting for a response, Kris set the phone down on the bedspread in front of Adam and got up, walking out the door and closing it quietly behind him.

Adam’s confusion only grew with that strange development. He stared down at the phone for a moment before hesitantly reaching down to pick it up. His trembling fingers scrolled through the list until he found the familiar number he’d wanted to call – then hovered over it for a moment, in an agony of indecision.

 _Come on. Just do it. Don’t be a moron._

Adam wanted to make the call. He really did. He knew that he _had_ to make it, or things would be so much worse…

But… he couldn’t.

He allowed the phone to drop from his hand to the bed, burying his face in his arms again as tremors of confusion and fear overtook him. He tried not to think, not to focus on anything but the music as the encouraging words and joyous melody of “Don’t Stop Believing” filled the bedroom and took him back to a better time – a time when he would have known exactly what to do.

*****************************************

Kris felt sick as he waited in the living room for Adam to show himself again. He didn’t want to think about the conversation that was likely taking place upstairs, or the verbal brutality to which Adam was willingly subjecting himself. He didn’t want to think about the fact that he’d given Adam the means to allow that brutality, either – but he knew that he hadn’t had a choice.

The choice was Adam’s to make.

He looked up, hopeful and dreadful at once, at the sound of the bedroom door opening and soft footsteps on the stairs. Adam came into the living room, biting his lower lip uncertainly, his hands tucked together behind his back. He stopped in front of Kris, silent for a long moment, Kris’s heart pounding in his ears as he waited for Adam to give him some sign as to what his decision had been.

Finally, Adam withdrew his hand from behind his back, extending it open in front of Kris – his cell phone resting on his palm.

“I… I couldn’t,” he whispered, his eyes locked onto the floor. “I just need… I think I just need some time. I… I don’t know if I’m ready to… to leave him for good. I’m not sure, but… but I know I need some time to think about this, and… and I can’t do that if he’s there. Can you… hold onto this for awhile? Please?”


	27. Chapter 27

“Can you… can you check my voicemail?” Adam’s voice was small and timid, his eyes darting uncertainly up to meet Kris’s for just a moment before looking away self-consciously. “I know Jordan’s called, and… and I don’t wanna… but… if there’s anything important…”

Kris nodded, aware that he was beaming ridiculously, but unable to wipe the thrilled smile off his face.

Of course, the reminder of Jordan’s threats and Adam’s fear helped a little with that.

“Yeah, of course, Adam, no problem,” he replied, nodding and patting the seat beside him in a silent invitation for Adam to sit down.

As Adam complied, Kris saw Leila coming into the room from the kitchen, a hopeful expression on her face. Kris gave her a slight nod, and his smile threatened to overtake his face again as her shoulders sagged and her face lit up with relief.

“And… um…” Adam continued, hesitant. “… maybe we should call the phone company and… and find out… if there are any numbers blocked, and… and for how long…”

“And while we’re at it, block Jordan’s number?” Leila suggested hopefully as she sat down at Adam’s other side, reaching out to take his hand and give it a supportive squeeze. “Keep him from harassing you and leaving you messages you don’t wanna check?”

Adam looked at her, a flash of fear in his eyes at the idea, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He directed his gaze toward Kris, who shrugged, a playful spark in his dark gaze.

“Why not?”

Kris’s smile was infectious, and Adam’s mouth twitched as he guiltily tried to suppress the beginnings of a smile. “That would _really_ piss him off,” he pointed out.

“I know,” Kris agreed with a nod. “And he can’t do anything about it. Won’t that be fun?”

Kris realized that perhaps he’d pushed his luck a bit too far when Adam’s reaction was not the guarded amusement he’d hoped for, but rather a momentary flash of panic. Kris quickly shook his head, backpedaling rapidly.

“No, no, that _wouldn’t_ be fun. We don’t have to do that. I’ll just… check your messages like you said, and then you can call the phone company about the blocked numbers, and that’s all. Okay?”

Adam nodded, but the hesitation on his face made Kris suspicious, so he tucked the phone into his pocket and made his way into another room, afraid that Adam might change his mind if given the chance, and ask for the phone back again.

Adam’s voicemail was full, containing twenty unheard messages.

Kris got a pad of paper and a pen and began taking down the details of the important ones, deleting them once he’d taken the messages down, and saving any that he thought Adam might want to listen to later.

Out of the twenty messages, fourteen were from Jordan.

Kris found himself gripping the pen so tightly that he nearly broke it, his teeth clenched with fury, as he listened to the verbal poison with which Jordan had attempted to kill Adam’s defiance and force him back to his knees. His moods seemed to shift with each message, as he tried every tactic in his arsenal – pleading and apologies, followed by vicious insults and degradations, as well as terrifying threats of harm – not only against Adam, but against the people he loved as well.

Kris deleted all of Jordan’s messages, certain that if Adam knew about the threats he was making against his loved ones – his friends, his mother, even Kris himself – he would certainly cave and go back to Jordan immediately.

He took the rest of the messages – mostly from Adam’s publicist – back to the living room for Adam’s perusal. Adam scanned the list, his expression pensive and troubled, before looking up at Kris, his lips parted to form a question. He closed them again immediately, however, thinking better of it, shaking his head slightly and drawing in a shaky breath.

“So… my friends… they called your phone?” he asked after a moment, and Kris knew that whatever he’d been about to ask, that was not it.

Kris nodded. “Yeah. You want me to call them back?”

Adam hesitated, considering a moment before nodding slowly. “Please. Just tell them I’m… I’m safe, and… and I’m sorry. And… I’ll tell them more as soon as I can, but for now, I just… I need to keep this to myself, for now. Okay?”

Kris nodded again. “I’ll tell them.”

He handed Adam his phone, giving Leila a warning look, before continuing quietly. “Why don’t you go ahead and call the phone company about those blocked calls, while I make these calls for you? I’ll be right back.”

Adam’s friends were relieved to hear from Kris, though most of them seemed frustrated with the lack of actual information he could offer them. Brad and Danielle were both rather insistent that Kris tell them more, but he calmly, apologetically refused, telling them that Adam would tell them the rest of the story when he was ready, but for now, he appreciated their understanding that he just couldn’t at the moment.

“It’s that _Jordan_ , isn’t it?” Brad concluded, disgust and anger in his voice as he fairly spat out the name of Adam’s boyfriend. “I never trusted him! What did he do to Adam?” he demanded.

“I really can’t say anything more than I’ve already said,” Kris insisted. “Adam will be able to tell you more when he’s ready, but he needs a little time. Thank you for understanding that.”

 _You’re getting good at the whole diplomatic, public double-speak kind of thing, Kris Allen – which is a little like getting good at lying._

 _Not so sure that’s a_ good _thing._

As he disconnected the last of the calls he had to make, Kris let out a weary sigh of relief before heading back to the living room, where Adam sat on the sofa with his mother, his head in his hands. He was shaking his head slightly, clearly overwhelmed. He looked up as Kris approached, shock clear in his eyes.

“I can’t believe he’d do that,” he whispered, his voice hushed and soft with horror. “He… he blocked _everyone’s_ calls. Yours, my mom’s, my friends’… _everyone’s_ – and then said that they just… just must not care anymore. I can’t believe he’d… he’d _lie_ to me like that…”

“He’s not the person you thought he was, Adam,” Leila gently pointed out, resting a supportive hand on Adam’s leg.

Adam didn’t look at her, staring into the distance as he tried to reconcile what Jordan had told him with the shocking truth he’d just discovered. “He told me that you all… just didn’t care to call. He said it was… normal, sort of… that my friends just didn’t know how to deal with all the… the sudden changes in my life… the fame and attention and all. And the whole time… they were _trying_ to reach me, and… and he just…”

“He’s a liar,” Kris stated softly, sitting down beside Adam again and wrapping one arm around him. “You can’t believe anything he says, Adam.”

“And a thief, too,” Leila added, resentment obvious in her voice. “We need to find a way to get control of your assets back into your hands again, sweetie.”

Adam looked up at her in alarm, shaking his head. “We can’t go to the police…”

“No, we don’t have to,” Kris assured him, waiting until Adam met his eyes to continue. “We could talk to an attorney. Attorneys _can’t_ say anything about what you tell them. It’s against the law. So they could give us some advice, let us know what our options are, without any chance of it getting out in the press, or getting back to Jordan, or whatever…”

Adam considered that for a moment, wary and reluctant, before finally nodding slowly. “That… might be a good idea…”

***************************************

Adam felt as if he was slowly waking up from a long and terrifyingly detailed nightmare.

Jordan had been so convincing – so confident and strong and subtly overpowering as to make Adam believe that everything he’d said _had_ to be the truth. To find out now that it had all been lies was utterly overwhelming. Adam felt as if his whole worldview was shifting out of focus, tilting on its axis until he no longer knew which direction was up – where to go, or what to do. He had spent so long believing that Jordan was so firmly in control that he could never escape – and almost as long believing that he didn’t even _want_ to escape.

But he did want to, now, he knew that much.

 _And maybe… just_ maybe _… I can…_

Adam remembered the tour tape Kris had shown him a little while earlier, and felt a sharp, wistful ache in his chest at the memory. Kris and Leila were still discussing attorneys over his head, but his thoughts were distracted by the bittersweet memories that flooded his mind.

 _Where did that powerful, confident guy go? The one who was in charge of his own life, and knew who he was and that he mattered, no matter what anyone thought of him? What happened to him?_

 _Where did I go?_

*********************************************

An hour of conversation left them with a tentative plan for the following day. Kris’s attorney would come to the house to meet with them, and they would tell him how Jordan had pressured Adam into signing everything over to him, and find out what it would take to get Adam’s possessions back into Adam’s name. Kris also wanted to ask about the laws regarding domestic violence, and what it would take to get Jordan locked up, and whether or not it could be accomplished without dragging Adam’s personal tragedy through the media circus that would result if the story got out – but he wasn’t going to push it.

They had come too far to scare Adam away now.

Exhausted, Adam leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes with a weary sigh. Sensing that he needed some time alone, Kris rose to his feet.

“I’m gonna see what we’ve got to eat. You want anything?”

He already knew what Adam’s answer would be, but it was only good manners to ask. Adam shook his head without saying a word, and Kris glanced toward Leila. He was surprised when she merely nodded toward the kitchen, rising to her feet as well.

“I’ll be right back, Adam,” she informed him gently.

Adam let out a quiet grunting sound that would have to do in place of actual verbal acknowledgement, and Leila, unobserved by Adam with his arm over his eyes, grabbed Kris’s elbow and steered him quickly toward the kitchen. Once they reached it, she released him, and Kris glanced warily over his shoulder toward the living room before turning to fully face her, a questioning look on his face. Leila’s smile was calm and controlled, but genuine enough to be disarming.

“I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes, Kris,” she explained. “I wanted to thank you, first of all. For all you’ve done – all you’re doing – for Adam, and for me. You’re really going out of your way, and putting yourself at risk, in a way that not a lot of _friends_ would do. It means a lot to me, and though I know you two haven’t been that close over the past two years, and he might not know how to say it right now – it means even more to Adam. A _lot_ more.” She paused, barely a beat, before continuing in the same calm, matter-of-fact tone.

“And that’s why if you break his heart, or put him through anything more than he’s already been through, you’ll be sorry.”

Kris blinked, startled by the blunt, unexpected words. “Wh-what?”

Leila Lambert crossed her arms over her chest, a single brow raised in demanding scrutiny as she gave him a challenging look, her voice soft and gentle, and yet somehow infinitely more dangerous for it.

“What exactly are your intentions toward my son, Kris Allen?”


	28. Chapter 28

Kris just blinked stupidly at Leila for a long moment before he realized that his jaw had literally dropped at her question. With an effort he closed his mouth, swallowing hard.

“I-I… don’t know what you’re talking about, Mrs. Lambert. We’re just… I mean… I’m just his… friend. That’s all…”

Even as he spoke, Kris cringed inwardly, well aware that his stammering, stumbling explanation was far from convincing. Leila just raised a dubious brow in his direction, her lips pursed in a skeptical expression.

“Kris Allen, would you lie to your _own_ mother?”

Kris gulped, eyes wide and trapped. “N-no, ma’am…”

“Then please don’t lie to me, either.” Leila’s voice softened slightly as she continued. “Come on, Kris. You’re not subtle, and I’m not blind.”

Kris’s shoulders sagged with defeat, as he sank down into the nearest kitchen chair with a heavy sigh. “Okay,” he admitted quietly. “I… I have… _feelings_ , for Adam. I have for… for a while.” He looked up at her, urgency in his dark eyes as he hurried to reassure her. “But I’m not going to…”

“How long is ‘a while’?”

Leila’s voice was calm and composed as she slowly sat down in the chair across from Kris, leveling a piercing gaze at him that was eerily familiar. Kris had never before thought that Adam looked much like either of his parents; but in that moment, he could see the clear, sharp intelligence in her eyes that he’d come to know in Adam’s gaze. He found that he couldn’t look away, no matter how badly he wanted to hide the truth he knew that she could see on his face.

“A… a long time,” he confessed softly. “It’s… it’s why Katy left me.” A tentative, bittersweet smile crossed his lips as he added, “ _She_ wasn’t… blind… either.”

Leila nodded slowly, looking away with a thoughtful expression, and Kris could almost see her mentally calculating the time that had passed since the tabloids had been filled with the stories of Kris and Katy’s breakup. His divorce had only been final for a few short weeks, but they had separated long before that – and his feelings for Adam went back even further.

“Kris… you’re a really good friend to Adam.” Leila’s voice was quiet and certain, and drew Kris’s focus immediately from his own painful reminiscences. “What you’re doing for him now – how hard you’re trying to protect him – you have no idea how much it means to me.” She paused before continuing, concern clear in her voice. “You also have no idea what you put him through two years ago – do you?”

Kris blinked, startled and confused. “Wh-what? What _I_ put him through… What are you talking about?”

“He loved you, Kris.” The soft, blunt words caught Kris off guard, and he flinched slightly. “He loved you, and you shot him down.” Leila held up a halting hand when Kris started to object, shaking her head and breaking in gently, “I know, I know you didn’t have a choice, Kris. You were a married man. You were doing what you thought was the right thing. Still – it hurt him.” She was quiet for a moment, studying Kris’s face as she concluded, “He’s hurting _now_. The last thing he needs… is for you to hurt him _again_. It’s great that you’re trying to save him, and I’m grateful – but before you come… riding in on your white horse to save the day… I’d like to know just exactly what your plan is for afterwards.”

“I… I don’t really have one,” Kris admitted, shaking his head, at a loss. “I just… want to make sure that he’s safe, and… and _alive_ … and hopefully, happy… when all this is done and Jordan is out of his life. Beyond that… I’m not really trying to do _anything_ , Mrs. Lambert. I don’t want to… to confuse him, or… make things worse…”

“Good.” Leila smiled at last, seemingly relieved and impressed with Kris’s answer. “It’s just that he’s… obviously incredibly fragile right now, and… the last thing he needs is to jump into a new relationship before he’s even gotten over the damage from this one – you know? In time, maybe… but for now, Kris… it’s better if he doesn’t have too much to deal with. What he’s dealing with already is enough.”

Kris nodded, swallowing hard. He clearly saw the truth in her words, and he had been telling her the truth. He had no intention of telling Adam how he felt, or pushing his friend to make any kind of decision between him and Jordan. Still, hearing it from someone else’s lips left a cold, heavy ache in his chest, a feeling of disappointment and finality at the knowledge that telling Adam about his feelings would only do more damage than good – not that it mattered, as Adam certainly couldn’t still feel the same way.

 _Of course he doesn’t,_ he told himself sternly. _It’s been nearly two years, and he’s been with Jordan all during that time. So the guy he fell in love with was an abusive bastard who ruined his life – the point is, he_ fell in love – _with someone not you._

 _You missed your chance, Kris. Just… be his friend and help him get through this. It’s the least you can do…_

Leila surprised him with a gentle hug and a reassuring smile before turning and heading toward the door. She paused in the doorway, turning to speak over her shoulder in a thoughtful, pensive tone.

“You know,” she informed him, “I don’t think he ever quite got over you.”

Kris stared after her in disbelief, his mind momentarily refusing to process her words. As they began to sink in, he sank back down into his chair, his mind racing with the implications of her parting words, which instilled a sense of hope in him, despite her stern warnings.

The time wasn’t right, he knew. Adam needed time to recover from the damage Jordan had done before he could even think straight about the prospect of any new relationship – and he wasn’t even free of Jordan’s control yet, in so many ways. Kris could not complicate matters by telling him how he felt _now_ …

 _… but… maybe… someday… when he’s ready to be with someone again…_

 _… maybe there’s still a chance._

 _************************************_

 

Adam was beginning to think that, along with all the trauma and confusion and uncertainty, he was developing some kind of sleeping disorder. It seemed that every time he sat down for more than a couple of minutes, he found himself so overwhelmed with everything he was facing that he was suddenly overcome with exhaustion.

Of course, the fact that he was leaning his head on his mother’s shoulder while she ran her fingers soothingly through his hair might have had something to do with it.

Adam felt a little silly and childish for allowing his mother to coddle him as if he was a little boy again; but he couldn’t bring himself to reject the comfort and warmth she offered. It wasn’t as if Jordan was always cruel and never affectionate with him. It was just that Jordan’s gentleness and affection was tainted with the knowledge that it could change to violence in an instant at a single misstep on Adam’s part.

A shiver of apprehension ran through Adam at that turn of thought, and he swallowed back the wave of nausea that rose up in his throat. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out his troubling thoughts, and failing miserably. The gentle squeeze of his mother’s arm around his shoulders told Adam that she had not missed the slight tremor that had passed through him. She drew back enough to make him sit up, her eyes searching as she tried to make eye contact.

“What is it, honey?” she murmured.

Adam just shook his head, looking away, his face flushed with embarrassment.

 _You’re so pathetic. Such a useless, weak little waste. She shouldn’t have to carry the burden of…_

The thought broke off abruptly as Kris came back into the room, closing his cell phone and putting it in his pocket as he did. His pace was swift, his tone all business as he sat down at Adam’s other side.

“Okay. The new security guys will be here within the hour, and my attorney said he’d come by as soon as he’s done in his office for the day – so like, five or six? Does that work for you?”

Adam nodded listlessly, then shrugged slightly and gave Kris a rueful, nervous smile. “Not like I’m going anywhere.” He was quiet for a moment as he processed Kris’s words, and a frightening thought occurred to him. “So… the security people couldn’t send anyone any faster?”

“No, that’s… pretty fast, actually,” Kris sighed, placing a reassuring hand on Adam’s shoulder as he offered a sympathetic grimace. “I’m sorry, that’s the best they can do. But Adam, I promise you – it’s okay. You’re safe. Jordan can’t get to you here.”

Adam nodded, trying to accept Kris’s reassurances, but unable to shake his underlying certainty that somehow, Jordan would find a way to get to him. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the memory of past threatening words – Jordan’s response the last time Adam had dared to say he was leaving – but unable to keep them from filtering through into his mind.

 _Don’t think_ anyone _can protect you from me, Adam. I’ve done security for years, and I know all the tricks. I_ will _get to you, Adam, no matter how you try to stop me…_

“Adam. Hey.” Kris’s low, intent words drew Adam’s attention, and his expression made it clear that Adam’s fears were obvious on his face. “Trust me. I have an armed guard already on duty, circling the perimeter of my house every fifteen minutes. My security system is the best there is. Even if Jordan managed to get past the guard somehow and try to get in, the police would be alerted the minute he got through the door.”

Adam swallowed hard, nodding again, trying to appease Kris’s seemingly desperate desire to reassure him – and holding back the response that filled his mind.

 _If he gets in, it’ll be too late already. The police won’t be able to get here in time._

“Does he even have a way of finding out where you live?” Leila pointed out, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. “I mean… it’s not like you’re listed, is it?”

The cautious hope Adam felt at that idea was quickly crushed by Kris’s response.

“Well… no, but… I sent a couple of letters to Adam a few months back.” Kris looked at Adam with a dubious expression that said he already knew what Adam’s answer would be. “Did you get any letters from me?”

Adam shook his head, unable to speak, suddenly feeling very sick again.

“So that means… Jordan _did_ get them.” Leila sighed.

The reminder of the lengths to which Jordan had gone to isolate him and keep him from his loved ones was overwhelming to Adam, and he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. The whole thing had him reeling, to think of the depth of Jordan’s betrayal, and all the lies he’d told to make Adam believe that his family and friends had given up on him.

 _Surely_ some _of the things he told me had to have been true – but how am I supposed to know what was true and what was lies?_

 _Was this whole thing just a scheme from the very beginning, to take everything I have away from me?_

 _Did he ever really love me at all?_

Thinking about the letters Kris had sent him brought thoughts to Adam’s mind of other letters – the letters from his stalker. His brow broke out in a cold sweat, and he suddenly felt cold with guilt at the thought of the danger in which he was placing Kris, by being here at all. At least Jordan _knew_ about the stalker, and knew to look out for him. Here, with diminished security, Adam and anyone with him were vulnerable not only to Jordan, but to his stalker as well.

“Kris… I shouldn’t be here,” Adam stated softly, looking up to meet Kris’s eyes pleadingly. “I’m putting you in danger just by being here. I told you about… the stalker. He’s been sending me… threatening letters, and… and he’s been in my house. If he could get past _Jordan_ into _my_ house… Kris…”

Kris glanced over Adam’s bowed head to meet Leila’s eyes, and Adam frowned, following his gaze for a moment before giving Kris a questioning look. Kris took in a deep breath, reaching out to place one hand over both of Adam’s, now folded together in front of him.

“Adam… I’ve been thinking about something, and… okay… what if you never had a stalker?”

Adam considered the question for a moment, taken aback by it and not really sure where Kris was going with it. “I… guess I’d feel… about two percent safer.” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head and freeing one hand to run trembling fingers through his hair. “But I don’t see what difference that makes, now…”

Kris frowned, shaking his head. “No, Adam, that’s… not what I meant…”

Before Kris could continue, however, there was a loud, insistent knock at the door.

Adam’s heart lurched, and he nearly jumped out of his skin, wide, dread-filled eyes immediately locking onto the door. His breath caught in his throat, and his body began to tremble, as he shook his head unconsciously in pleading denial – but it was too early for either of their expected guests to be arriving.

There was no doubt in Adam’s mind as to who was on the other side of that door.


	29. Chapter 29

“No… no, no, _please_ …”

Adam didn’t seem to be aware of his own words or actions as he rose to his feet, stumbling backward away from the sofa where he had sat. His eyes were wide and stricken with terror as he frantically shook his head.

“No… _please_ , no…”

Kris immediately moved toward the door, while Leila focused on her distraught son. She rose and followed his retreat, catching his arm and raising a gentle hand to his cheek in an attempt to refocus his attention on her. Adam flinched violently, turning his panicked gaze on her at last, though she wasn’t sure he was actually seeing her at all.

“Adam,” she hurried to reassure him, her voice hushed and soothing. “Adam, you don’t even know if it’s him…”

Kris reached the intercom box on the wall just inside the living room and pressed the button to allow himself to be heard outside the house. “Who’s there?”

A moment later, Adam’s fears were confirmed, as Jordan’s all-too-familiar voice echoed through the tiny speaker – a bit muffled, yet still clearly recognizable. “Adam! Adam, are you there? Adam, I need to talk to you!” His forceful words were followed by more furious pounding on the door.

“Go away!” Kris ordered, glancing over his shoulder to where Adam and Leila stood before directing his attention toward the intercom again. “You’re not welcome here, man. You’d better just get out of here.”

“Yeah?” Jordan sneered. “I’d like to hear that from Adam. You can’t keep me from talking to him. That’s _his_ choice. Adam. Adam, _talk to me_!”

Kris glanced uncertainly toward Adam, but, not surprisingly, he was in no condition to tell Jordan off himself. He had backed away again as Jordan spoke until his back was against the wall beside the sofa. He shook his head, his eyes closed as if trying to shut it all out. Leila stood beside him, observing his panicked reaction, her mouth set in a grim, taut line. She met Kris’s eyes for a moment as she took out her cell phone and held it up with an unspoken question on her face.

Kris nodded his approval as he pressed the button again. “I’m warning you, Jordan, you’d better get lost. The police are on their way.”

Adam opened his eyes at that, finally noticing the phone in his mother’s hand. He let out a horrified gasp, reaching to take it from her. She quickly sidestepped his attempt, turning her back and holding the phone to her ear.

“Please, Mom, don’t,” he begged her, his voice trembling and desperate as he followed after her. “Mom, don’t call them, please don’t call them…”

“That’s really not necessary,” Jordan’s voice insisted over the intercom. “I just want to talk to him. That’s all.” After a moment’s silence, he spoke again, his voice softly urgent, coaxing. “Adam. I’m not angry. Adam, please. Just talk to me, baby. Just talk to me. He can’t keep you from _talking_ to me…”

Much to Kris’s dismay, Adam went very still, listening closely as Jordan spoke. A slow swallow was visible in his throat as he took a hesitant, uncertain step away from his mother and toward the intercom where Kris stood. Leila immediately abandoned her phone call, reaching out to grasp Adam’s arm and pull him back.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she objected, keeping her voice low to prevent Jordan’s overhearing. “Adam… _no_.”

“If he… j-just wants to talk…” Adam reasoned, his voice uncharacteristically small and timid as he glanced uncertainly between his mother and the doorway. “I mean… just to _talk_ …”

At that moment, however, a loud crashing sound made him jump, and he turned dread-filled eyes toward the door, taking a fearful step backward. Kris glanced through the doorway down the short hall that led to the front door, wincing as a second fierce blow visibly shook the door. It sounded as if Jordan had swiftly given up on talking his way in and had gone on to attempting to kick the door down.

“ _Leave now_ ,” Kris ordered , cringing at the faint tremor in his own voice that somewhat hampered its impact. “You don’t wanna be here when the police show up…”

Leila drew in a soft gasp, and Kris glanced at her to see her hurriedly taking out her phone again. Before the phone could even ring, however, several other voices could be heard joining Jordan’s over the intercom. Jordan’s voice became indignant and furious as he argued with the male newcomers. Kris gave Leila a questioning look, gesturing toward her phone and mouthing without quite speaking the words.

“Did you…?”

Leila shook her head, at a loss, putting her phone away.

“Fine! Fine, I’m going!” Jordan’s seething fury was clear in his voice. “Don’t touch me!”

A moment later, an unfamiliar male voice spoke over the intercom. “Mr. Allen, we’re with Frontline Security Agency. Are you all right? He’s gone. If you want us to call the police, though, we can do that.”

“No,” Adam spoke up, his voice soft and pleading. “Don’t. Please, Kris.”

Kris sighed, resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes for a moment, defeated by the desperation in Adam’s voice from giving the answer called for by his better judgment. “No,” he replied to the men outside. “That won’t be necessary. Just a moment, I’ll buzz you in.”

By the time Kris met the newly assigned guards in the hallway, his one already on-duty guard had joined them, concerned and apologetic when he found out what had happened while he was making his quarter-hourly circuit around the house. Kris quickly reassured him, certain that Jordan’s work in the field of security gave him an unsettling advantage. He had probably been watching and waiting until the guard left his post at the front door, waiting for the chance he needed to try to make contact with Adam. Kris instructed the guard to give the newcomers a quick tour of his house, and then show them to the unguarded entrances he needed watched.

As he walked back into the living room, where Leila and Adam were seated on the sofa again, he felt a brief vibration in his pocket. He took out Adam’s cell phone, frowning when he saw the name blinking in the tiny window. As he reached the sofa, Adam looked up, his eyes shadowed, his face haggard and weary. Taking in the look on Kris’s face and the phone in his hand, Adam reached up and snatched the phone away before Kris could stop him, turning away when Kris reached to take it back with a startled cry of protest.

After a moment, Adam went very still, all the color draining from his face. His hands began to shake, and he offered no further resistance as Kris took the phone back. Adam lowered his head into his hands, trembling, as Kris read the message that had left him so visibly shaken. As the cruel words echoed through his mind, Kris felt protective fury rising up within him, at the thought of the sheer emotional anguish Jordan was inflicting on Adam, without ever even touching him.

 _“This is NOT over, you lying little whore. I will KILL you for this.”_

“This was a really bad idea.” Adam’s voice broke over the words as he shook his head slowly back and forth in his hands. “I should have known better. I should never have come here. Oh, _God_ …”

Kris’s teeth clenched in anger as he quickly typed a brief response to Jordan’s message – _“Go to hell”_ – then snapped the phone shut and turned it off before Jordan could get the chance to respond – or Adam could get the chance to read it. Kris sat down on the sofa beside Adam, reaching out a supportive hand to rest on the back of his neck. A pang of sympathy twisted inside him at the fine tremor he felt running through Adam’s body.

“Hey…” He kept his voice low and soothing as he tried to get Adam’s attention. “Adam… it’s gonna be all right. You’re okay… he can’t touch you…”

“I have to go back,” Adam insisted, his eyes wide and fearful as he looked up at Kris, stricken, sick with terror. “He’s gonna kill me… I have to go back…”

“Adam, listen to me,” Kris cut him off firmly, taking Adam’s shoulders in his hands and maintaining eye contact. “Adam… it’s too late for that. Okay? You’ve already taken this far enough that it’s too late to turn back – and that’s a good thing. You need to forget about going back to him. All he’ll do is hurt you if you do. What you need to do is break it off with him completely. Get a restraining order, file charges against him…”

“No,” Adam objected, shaking his head, pulling away from Kris’s firm hands. “No, I c-can’t… I can’t do that… he’ll…”

“He won’t be able to touch you if you don’t let him, Adam. You have to _fight back_ …”

Adam flinched away from the words as if they were a physical blow, shaking his head rapidly in denial as he rose to his feet and turned around. He held his hands outstretched in front of him, backing toward the stairs. He wouldn’t make eye contact and his words came out in a stammering, uncertain rush.

“I-I just need… some time. To… think. I don’t… don’t know what I should do, and… and I need… some space. Please, just… just l-leave me alone for a-a little while. _Please_.”

When he reached the doorway leading to the kitchen, Adam spun around and hurried up the stairs. Kris and Leila remained silent until they heard the sound of the bedroom door slamming behind him. After a moment, Leila raised her head to meet Kris’s eyes, a rueful expression on her face.

“I know, I know,” Kris sighed, raising a hand to cover his face. “I keep telling you not to push it, and I just… pushed it right out of the room.”

Leila raised a single brow in exaggerated offense. “If by ‘it’ you mean my _son_ …”

The slight joke was intended to lighten the mood, but Kris was not ready to let it be lightened. “I know he said he needs to be alone, but… I’m not sure now is one of those times when we should.”

“Are there any large windows in that bedroom?”

Kris’s eyes widened. “You don’t think he’d… he’s not that… despondent… is he?”

Confusion faded into horror as Leila realized what Kris was suggesting – and he cringed as he realized that hadn’t been what she’d meant in the first place. “I was thinking more along the lines of his trying to sneak out without our knowing about it and go running back to Jordan,” she explained, a slight tremor in her voice as she glanced toward the stairs. “But… do _you_ think he would…?”

Kris shook his head slowly, following her gaze. “No… surely not.”

“Windows?” Leila asked again, with new urgency in her voice.

Kris considered the question for a moment before shrugging slightly. “Two and a half stories up… not high enough to break his neck… not low enough to land _without_ breaking his legs…”

“So… if he tried either…” Leila concluded with a sigh of relief, “… he’d fail.”

Kris nodded. “Let’s just… give him a little space. My attorney will be here in a couple of hours, and I don’t think Adam’s going to like what he has to say. Maybe it’ll go down a little easier if he’s had some time to think about it.”

***************************************

“So… you want to build a case against this guy for… fraud? Is that what you’re telling me? He tricked you into signing over your assets?”

Kris’s heart sank at the suspicious note he heard in his attorney’s voice. Alan Brandt was by no means a stupid man. In fact, it was his keen sense of perception when it came to people and their motives that had gotten him to the place he was now – a well-respected, sought-after attorney to the stars. He made his living off of his ability to lie well when necessary – and his ability to tell instantly if he was being lied to.

Adam wasn’t exactly _lying_ – but he wasn’t exactly telling the truth, either.

Kris cringed as Adam tried to explain, stumbling over his words and generally coming across as far less eloquent than usual. “Not… exactly. I mean… I knew I was… signing it over to him, I just… just thought… I didn’t have any other choice.”

“So… he made you believe he somehow had… a legal right… to _your_ possessions?” Alan was doubtful.

“No, that’s… that’s not what I’m saying…”

“Mr. Lambert, pardon me, but… what exactly _are_ you saying?”

Adam let out a quiet sigh of defeat, running a nervous hand through his hair. “Okay… um… whatever I tell you… you can’t tell anyone, right?”

“You’re paying me. Therefore, my lips are sealed.”

Adam nodded, accepting that. He closed his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath, steeling himself for what he had to say. Kris reached out a cautious hand to rest on his shoulder, offering silent support – relieved when Adam did not pull away. Adam kept his eyes closed, unable to look at anyone as he finally admitted the truth.

“I… I was… _afraid… not_ to sign it over when he… when he told me to.”

Kris watched as shocked understanding dawned in Alan’s eyes, and he nodded slowly as the pieces of Adam’s disjointed story fell into place. “So… what we have here is a case of domestic abuse. Your boyfriend has been… threatening you. You were afraid of what he might do to you if you refused.”

Adam nodded, finally opening his eyes, but not daring to look up at anyone else in the room. Kris hesitated a moment before adding helpfully, “He actually… just got out of jail on an assault charge, but… but it was against me, not Adam. I… I saw him, and… tried to stop him…” His voice trailed off, but he had already said enough.

“All right. I can work with that, Adam, I can…” Alan directed his attention back toward Adam. “… but… the thing is… if we’re going to get your things back from your boyfriend… we’re going to have to bring the abuse into the case. You’re mentally competent, and weren’t deceived any way. We’re going to have to have an explanation to offer the judge as to why you’d willingly sign over your assets.”

“But… there are laws, right?” Leila spoke up, a worried frown on her face. “As a victim, his name can’t be released…”

“But his boyfriend’s can, and will,” Alan pointed out with an apologetic grimace. “The press will put two and two together. I won’t lie to you.” He studied Adam’s expression carefully as he concluded, “If we proceed with this, to get your assets back – this _will_ have to become public.”

“No.” Adam’s voice was trembling but certain as he shook his head firmly, his eyes downcast. “No, I… I can’t… I can’t let… everyone know…”

“Adam…” Leila reached out to touch his arm, a pleading note in her voice.

Alan spoke up before she could, leaning forward across the coffee table to focus Adam’s attention on him. “Adam, listen to me,” he instructed. “I know coming forward about this would be difficult, but if you do, it will really help your case as far as getting your assets back. If you press formal charges against him, get a restraining order, all of that – then, when it comes to the civil case to get your assets back, and you’re claiming you were coerced into signing everything over to him, that just serves to confirm your story. Also, a restraining order would make it so that he couldn’t come near you without going to jail again.”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Can you… excuse us for just a second?”

Kris rose from the sofa, gently pulling a confused, reluctant Adam to his feet beside him as well. Alan nodded his agreement, and Kris led Adam from the room. He waited until they were alone in the kitchen to speak again, his voice low and urgent, tucking his head in an attempt to get Adam to make eye contact, though Adam kept his gaze stubbornly averted.

“Adam, listen to me. I want you to really think about what I’m saying, okay?”

Adam nodded, though he seemed to be just trying to appease Kris and get him to shut up.

“If you go back to Jordan, things might be okay… for a little while. He might act like he’s sorry… like he’s just so glad to have you back that he’s willing to overlook the last few days, everything that’s happened… and he might not hurt you again, not for a while…” He was quiet for a moment, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing softly, “… but it won’t last.”

Adam’s eyes darted up to meet his, and Kris could see the dread there, of the truth in Kris’s words.

“Eventually… he’ll hurt you again, Adam. And it’ll be worse, because… it’s _always_ worse. Isn’t it?”

Adam looked away again, but his shoulders were shaking with silent sobs, and Kris knew that his words had struck a nerve.

“It might be okay for a little while, but eventually, Adam… it won’t be. Eventually… he’ll kill you.”

Adam shook his head. “He’ll kill me if I _don’t_ …”

“Not if he can’t get to you,” Kris reminded him gently, taking hold of his arms and urging him to focus on what he was saying. “Adam… there’s another option. If you _don’t_ go back to him, then… then you have to find a way to make sure he can’t get to you. We can get that restraining order – file charges against him – make sure that if he comes near you again, he’ll go to jail. We’ll have security with you all the time. Yeah, sure, he’ll try – but that just means we’ll get him put in jail for what he did to you. He won’t be able to hurt you again, Adam. You’ll be safe. You’ll be _safe_. Okay?”

Adam looked uncertain, as if he desperately wanted to believe what Kris was saying, but couldn’t let go of the fears he’d learned to live with so long ago.

“Trust me, Adam,” Kris whispered, holding his gaze, pleading softly. “Adam… please trust me. I won’t let him touch you again. Please… just _trust me_.”

After a moment that felt like an eternity, Adam nodded, his shoulders falling as he let out a soft, breathless sob. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay…”

“Good.” Kris couldn’t suppress the grin of relief and joy that broke out on his face as he drew Adam into an impulsive embrace before drawing back to look at him again, nodding. “ _Good_! Let’s go talk to Alan, all right? I promise you’re doing the right thing, Adam. You’re not going to regret this.”


	30. Chapter 30

"All right. I have your signed affidavits right here, and I'm going to see the judge first thing in the morning to file all the necessary paperwork." Alan's tone was all business as he closed his briefcase, the papers Adam and Kris had just signed tucked safely inside. "By tomorrow afternoon, we should have a temporary restraining order in place against Jordan that prevents him from coming near either of you or any of your family members, as well as a lawsuit in the works to sue him for ownership of the property he took from you. I have your signed statements in regards to the physical abuse, and I'm taking them to the prosecutor tomorrow to see about pressing formal charges. We’ll set up a time for you to come down to their office and give your statement in person."

 

He paused at the door, giving Adam a reassuring smile.

 

"You're doing the right thing, Adam. This is the first step in getting the rest of your life back."

 

Adam nodded bravely, though he looked like he felt sick, and shook Alan's hand before the attorney walked out the door, escorted to his car by one of Kris's security guards. As soon as Alan was gone, Adam leaned back against the wall behind him, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep, shaky breath. Leila immediately went to him, pulling him into a warm, reassuring embrace.

 

"He's right, baby," she murmured in his ear, kissing his cheek before pulling back to meet his eyes. "This is so... so brave, and so scary, I know, but... but it's the right thing. It's the only way to stop him."

 

Adam nodded, blinking back tears, before glancing longingly toward the living room. His voice was dangerously wobbly and breathless as he stammered, "I... I think I need to s-sit down..."

 

Kris walked with him and then sat down beside him, reaching out to gently take Adam's arm and focus his attention on him. Holding his gaze intently, he spoke in a firm but gentle tone that left no room for argument.

 

"I know what you're thinking right now, Adam. You're thinking you've just made the biggest mistake of your life, and you're wishing you could take it back right now. But... it's _not_ a mistake. You're safe now, Adam." Kris's voice trembled slightly with protective anger as he quietly declared, "He can't touch you now without going to jail -- and I'm not going to let him get near you. All right? I promise -- he's _never_ going to _touch_ you again."

 

Adam blinked at him, silent and a little dazed, but then nodded slowly, dissolving into grateful tears as he leaned forward to rest his head on Kris's shoulder. Kris held him close, cradling the back of his head and rocking slightly back and forth -- then freezing momentarily when he caught Leila's gaze over Adam's shoulder.

 

There was a knowing, warning expression in her eyes.

 

Kris swallowed hard, cautiously withdrawing a little from Adam's embrace, giving him a reassuring smile in response to the questioning, uncertain look on Adam's face.

 

"It's gonna be all right," Kris repeated softly, nodding. "You'll see, Adam. You're safe now."

 

But as Adam retreated to the bathroom to wash his face and regain his composure, Kris couldn't quite bring himself to meet Leila's stern, warning gaze.

 

"You're right," he sighed. "I wasn't thinking, but... Adam's so used to... to having all his decisions made for him... to being... taken care of... that he's afraid to make his own choices right now. And that's dangerous, because... right now, we're here to help him make the right ones, but... but if we're ever not..."

 

"Exactly." Leila's tone was low and grim. "Kris, I know you love him... I know you mean well... and he needs your support right now, but... I'm afraid that he's going to trade one dependency for the other, and... and in the long run, that's really not much better, is it?"

 

Kris shook his head. "It's not. You're right."

 

Leila rose to her feet, placing a gentle hand on Kris's shoulder for a moment. "I know you're just trying to help him, and don't get me wrong. He needs you right now, Kris. It's just... be careful, okay?"

 

Kris nodded, finally venturing to look up and meet her sympathetic gaze. "I will," he replied. "I promise."

 

********************************

 

After Alan left, Kris had to leave as well for a few hours, to give a few rescheduled interviews. He'd already put them off for several days in order to help deal with Adam's problems, and he couldn't just put his entire career on hold indefinitely.

 

Still, he hated to go.

 

Trusting that Adam was safe in Leila's hands, Kris did his best to focus on his job. It set his nerves on edge as each of the interviewers in turn brought up the recent story on TMZ, and asked about his relationship with Adam, whether or not Adam was still with his boyfriend, and whether or not Kris and Adam were secretly dating.

 

“Adam and I have been very good friends for a long time,” Kris answered with polite reserve. “His romantic life is his business to talk about, not mine. You’d better save those questions for when you interview _him_.”

 

Kris returned to the house several hours later to find Leila and Adam lying on Adam’s bed in the guest room, watching a movie – _Clueless_. Kris couldn’t help but smile when he saw it on the screen. It wasn’t his type of movie, but Adam had a nostalgic love for it from his teenage years, and Kris felt a rush of affection for his friend as he sat down on the edge of the bed beside them, chatting quietly for a few minutes about his interviews, and how it seemed that the reporters always seemed to ask the same exact questions.

 

He didn’t mention the new ones they’d come up with this time.

 

After a few minutes, Leila rose from the bed. “I have to work in the morning,” she sighed. “I’m going to bed, boys.” She gave Kris another stern look, but addressed them both as she casually added, “Be good,” before leaving the room.

 

Kris nudged Adam with his hip, a silent request for him to move over and make more room, and Adam complied, glancing at Kris out of the corner of his eye with an unusual shyness in his expression. He was dressed in soft blue pajama bottoms and a thin, sleeveless white cotton t-shirt. As Kris settled against the headboard, idly watching the television screen, Adam shifted uncomfortably on the bed,  crossing his arms loosely over his chest and drawing in tighter on himself, glancing uncertainly toward Kris – as if he wasn’t quite sure what position to take now that Kris had joined him on the bed.

 

Kris caught his eye as he drew his legs up under him and patted his folded knees invitingly. “Come on,” he gently urged Adam with a slight nod in his own direction. “Get comfy.”

 

Adam settled comfortably beside Kris, his cheek resting against Kris’s thigh just above his knees, exposing the broad expanse of his back to Kris’s casually affectionate fingers. Without even thinking about it, Kris began gently stroking Adam’s back, trailing his fingertips lightly up and down in a slow, soothing motion. Adam let out a soft hum of appreciation, settling in closer and visibly relaxing under Kris’s ministrations.

 

Kris’s fingers trailed down to trace along the hem of Adam’s t-shirt, venturing just under the edge of it – and a little shiver passed through Adam’s body. Kris immediately withdrew his hand, clearing his throat and redirecting his eyes toward the television again.

 

“You… don’t have to stop,” Adam murmured, his voice sleepy and vaguely pleading. “‘S okay. Feels good.”

 

Those unguarded words sent a little thrill through Kris, and he immediately continued what he’d been doing, gently tracing his fingertips along the smooth, freckled skin at the base of Adam’s spine. His hand gradually worked its way upward, pushing Adam’s t-shirt up with it as it went – and Kris froze momentarily as the dark, deep bruises on Adam’s back were exposed. He immediately recovered and continued the gentle massage he was administering, not wanting Adam to have time to realize why he had stopped and become embarrassed.

 

Kris’s thoughts began to wander to darker territory as he considered the bruises, and wondered what sort of actions might have placed them there. There were two long, vertical bruises, nearly perfectly rectangular, and parallel with Adam’s spine. Kris found himself morbidly fascinated by the marks, unable to take his eyes from them. Gradually, however, his gaze drifted to Adam’s bare arms – and the dark, finger-shaped bruises that encircled them. The mental images inspired by the sight set a sense of protective rage boiling deep in Kris’s stomach.

 

Kris only realized that he was tracing the bruises on Adam’s back, fingertips barely ghosting along the edges without quite touching, when Adam abruptly sat up, pulling away and pressing his back against the headboard behind him. He wrapped his arms around his knees, eyes averted, and Kris could see that he was trembling.

 

Kris felt like the worst person on the face of the planet.

 

“I-I’m sorry, Adam,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to…”

 

Adam shook his head, looking away. “It’s okay,” he insisted softly. “You… didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

An awkward silence descended between them as the credits of the movie began. Kris wanted to say something more, wanted to somehow bridge the gap that his careless action had created between them – but there was no way to take it back.

 

 _So… maybe the thing to do is to just… push forward…_

 

“What… what happened?” he asked softly. “To… your back? What did he do?”

 

Adam was silent for a long moment, long enough that Kris thought he wasn’t going to answer at all; he was just about to apologize again for even asking, when Adam finally spoke up, his voice small and hesitant and haunted.

 

“I… I ran into an old friend, at… at a photo shoot. He had brought some designs for the photographer to use, and… and I wasn’t expecting to see him, and… we talked. That’s all.” He shrugged slightly, raising the back of one hand to wipe across his eyes. “Jordan didn’t… _seem_ upset. Not… while we were there, but… as soon as we got home, he… he grabbed me, and…” Adam looked down, one arm still wrapped around his knees, the other picking nervously at the blanket beneath him. His voice took on a tone that was too calm, too controlled, as he continued telling the story that Kris was beginning to think he never should have brought up. “… he s-slammed me into the… the door way, you know? The door was open, and… up against the door jamb?”

 

Kris nodded, silent and sick as the vivid images filled his mind. The story explained everything – the deep marks on Adam’s arms where Jordan’s fingers had bitten cruelly into soft flesh and shaken him, the strange, long bruises on his back from where his body had been slammed mercilessly into the door jamb. The very thought of how painful that must have been nearly took Kris’s breath.

 

“I… I tried to ask him to stop and he… he just did it again and told me to… sh-shut up. He said if I… ever acted like such a fucking whore again… he’d make sure no one ever wanted to look at pictures of me again. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about… flirtatious designers at photo shoots.”

 

The distant, chilling smile on Adam’s lips didn’t touch his haunted eyes, and Kris instinctively reached out a hand to clasp Adam’s, stilling its incessant, fidgeting motion against the bedspread. Adam looked up at him, tense and braced for the disgust and horror he expected to see on Kris’s face. Kris didn’t know what Adam actually saw there, but he was relieved when Adam’s expression softened, and he seemed to relax a little.

 

Kris ran his thumb gently, soothingly, across the back of Adam’s hand, staring down at the place where their fingers met. He remembered countless tabloid stories he’d read about Adam over the past year and a half, and found himself seeing those half-believed tales in a new light. He swallowed hard, finally venturing to look up into Adam’s eyes again as he asked a quiet, hesitant question.

 

“So… that skiing accident last year, when you… cracked a few ribs…”

 

Adam shook his head slowly, his expression grim, staring off at the now blank television screen. “Not a skiing accident. Skiing _instructor_ who paid me a little too much attention. He… said I asked for it. That I was… coming onto the guy. He slapped me and… and knocked me down, and then he… he kicked me. Three or four times. That’s how my ribs got cracked.”

 

Kris wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not. Adam had not been so open about what had gone on between him and Jordan since their reunion a few days earlier, and the calm, disconnected tone in which he was talking about it was unsettling. Still, his instincts told him that Adam was only talking about it because somehow, he _needed_ to talk about it, and as long as he was still answering Kris’s questions so readily, asking those questions might be the best thing that Kris could do for him.

 

Kris thought for a moment before speaking again. “And, the… recurrent laryngitis? When you had to cancel those shows?”

 

Adam didn’t speak for a long moment, his hand clenching slightly around Kris’s, as his other hand flew unconsciously to brush against his throat. A cold, leaden weight settled in the pit of Kris’s stomach as he noted the bruises under Adam’s fingertips, and the explanation became clear. Adam shook his head almost imperceptibly, closing his eyes.

 

“ _Not_ … laryngitis…”

 

The rage churning in his stomach built to a fever pitch, and Kris found himself trembling with fury, unable to speak. Only when Adam looked down at their joined hands, his eyes wide with alarm, did Kris realize that he was shaking, and holding onto Adam’s hand so tightly that it probably hurt. Immediately he eased his grip, and Adam pulled his hand away, folding his arms tightly and physically closing in on himself, his gaze self-consciously averted.

 

“I’m so stupid,” he muttered, shaking his head, his voice trembling. “I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have let him… I just… I keep just doing these _stupid_ things…”

 

“Hey…” Kris shifted over on the mattress, closing the distance between himself and Adam and reaching out to gently touch his cheek. “Hey, Adam… look at me.”

 

Adam flinched slightly at the contact, and Kris’s heart broke a little – but Adam reluctantly met his eyes, his own filled with tears he was struggling to hold back. Kris leaned in closer, holding Adam’s gaze, his tone low and certain, filled with conviction.

 

“Adam, you are _not_ stupid – and you did _not_ deserve what he did to you. You are… beautiful, and talented, and _brilliant_ …” Kris shook his head, a grimace of disgust passing his lips as he went on. “A guy like Jordan… he just… has to be in control all the time, just to… to feel like a man. He was _intimidated_ by you, Adam. Don’t you get that?”

 

Adam blinked, his lips parted in surprise, shaking his head slightly in confusion.

 

“He’s intimidated by everything you have going for you, Adam. You are an _amazing_ person, and… Jordan _knew_ he didn’t deserve you. You were so… so strong and confident and assertive… and he had to break all that down… just to feel better about _himself_.” The disgust on Kris’s face faded into affection as he held Adam’s gaze, his voice earnest and sincere. “You’re so much better than that – better than _him_. You never deserved to be touched like that, Adam. _Never_. And Jordan never deserved the right to touch you _at all_.”

 

Adam just stared at Kris… mesmerized. His parted lips trembled slightly, his eyes wide and wondering as they drifted toward Kris’s lips. The tears he’d been holding back slipped silently down his cheeks, unheeded, as he suddenly leaned in, impulsive, to press a soft, tentative kiss against Kris’s mouth.

 

Kris froze, momentarily stunned and uncertain as to how to respond – before allowing himself to go with it.

 

 _Adam wants this. He kissed_ me. _He wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t want it…_

 

Kris gently returned the kiss, one arm steadying and firm around Adam’s shoulders, his other hand trailing tentatively up Adam’s arm, cautiously drawing him in closer. His lips were parted and yielding – allowing Adam to deepen the kiss, but not insisting upon it. When he felt the tip of Adam’s tongue dart past his lips, Kris felt a low stirring deep within him, and allowed his hand to trail up from Adam’s shoulder to cup the back of his head, drawing him in closer.

 

Abruptly, Adam drew away, gasping in a sharp, shaky breath.

 

Kris drew back as well, watching him warily – as guilt and uncertainty swiftly swept in to take the place of the desire that had consumed his rational thought.

 

“I-I’m sorry,” Adam stammered, his eyes downcast, shaking his head as he backed away across the bed and stood up on the other side. “I… I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry…”

 

And without any further explanation, Adam hurried from the room and down the stairs – leaving Kris alone with his own sinking fears, to wonder just how much damage he’d inflicted with his impulsive actions, and whether or not he’d managed to thoroughly screw things up beyond repair in the space of no more than a few brief, stolen moments.


	31. Chapter 31

_You stupid, worthless idiot. You've ruined everything._

 

Panic gripped Adam's thoughts as he hurried down the stairs, intent on getting as far away from Kris as possible, as quickly as possible. His brow had broken out in a cold sweat, and he felt sick with shame at his own reckless actions, as vicious words of accusation filled his mind.

 

 _Jordan's right -- you really_ are _nothing but a pathetic, useless little slut. If you could have controlled yourself even a little bit -- but, no, you had to go and kiss him and wreck everything._

 

Adam sat down on the sofa in the living room, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands for a moment -- but found that he couldn't keep still. He rose to his feet again, pacing back and forth, a nervous, trembling hand running through his hair as he fought back the roiling nausea rising up in his throat.

 

 _You never should have done that. Kris doesn't want you like that. He isn't even gay. And even if he was, the last thing he needs is to get caught up in all your shit right now. You've ruined everything._

Adam felt a cold, sick sensation of fear clenching in his chest, with a devastating realization:

 

 _It's over now. He's going to want me to leave, and... and it's not like I've got anywhere else to go._

 

Adam's pacing gradually slowed, and he stopped, his eyes widening as a detail of the situation occurred to him that he hadn't yet considered.

 

 _Except... Kris kissed me back._

 

 _Is it possible that maybe he_ does _want me? No... no, it was just an instinctive reaction to being kissed. Or maybe he just... just didn't want me to feel stupid..._

 

Adam's face flushed with humiliation at the thought that Kris might have been just humoring him, just doing his best not to do any additional damage to the broken, fragile creature that he had become. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to flee Kris's house, to get away so he would never have to face Kris again.

 

 _But... it_ felt _like he wanted it... and he's never been much of an actor... he would have stopped it, right? If he didn't want it?_

 

 _Why did_ you _stop it?_

 

The memory of Kris's strong arms wrapped around him, Kris's hand firmly holding the back of his head in place to deepen the kiss, filled Adam's mind. A tremor passed through him, and he wrapped his arms around himself, shaking his head to shut out the instinctive fears that had caused him to flee, and that still lingered in his mind.

 

 _Kris would never hurt me, anyway. He's not like Jordan. He would never push me to... to do anything..._

 

He shuddered slightly, immediately blocking out the memories that rose to his mind. He had no desire to go down that dark, terrifying path.

 

 _Kris is my friend. Kris cares about me. He's trying to help me..._

 

Adam's heart sank, and he sat down on the couch again, silent, despairing sobs tearing from his throat as he buried his face in his hands.

 

 _But you've wrecked it. Even Kris is only human, and sometimes you're just so stupid. If you pushed him far enough... if you keep doing the stupid things you always do... eventually, even_ he _might snap. And this has got to be the stupidest thing you've ever done. At the very least..._

 _... I'm sure he won't want me to stay here anymore._

 

 _Just give up. Just go and get your things, and go back home. This isn't going to work, anyway. Nothing you can do will stop Jordan from getting to you again. It's better for everyone if when he does, you're the only one around to get hurt._

 

"Hey."

 

Adam nearly jumped out of his skin, drawing in a sharp gasp as he raised his head to see Kris standing in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. He was leaning casually against the doorway, his hands in his pockets, watching Adam cautiously through lowered eyes.

 

"You okay, man?"

 

"Y-yeah," Adam whispered, looking away. "I'm fine..."

 

Kris let out a soft, knowing laugh that was also gentle and sympathetic. "No, you're not," he observed as he stood up straight and slowly crossed the room, closing the distance between them. He waited until he had sat down beside Adam, deliberately ignoring the way Adam tensed at his nearness, and placing a gentle hand on Adam's shoulder before speaking again in a soft, coaxing voice. "Come on, Adam. Talk to me."

 

Adam swallowed back the knot in his throat, blinking back tears and turning his head away slightly. "What is there to say?"

 

"Well... I know _I_ have some things I need to tell _you_ , but... but I'd like to know what _you're_ thinking. And… what happened up there."

 

Adam lowered his head in defeat, covering his eyes with one hand as he let out a quiet sigh. "I'm so sorry, Kris," he confessed, his voice trembling and barely audible. "I... I was so out of line. I sh-shouldn't have..." He shook his head, glancing up to meet Kris's eyes for just a moment before looking away again. "I-I'll go. I'll get my things, and... and I'll be out of here in an hour. I'm sorry, Kris, I didn't mean to... to screw things up so bad..."

 

"Adam." Adam reluctantly looked up at the confusion in Kris's voice, surprised by the expression of dismay on Kris's face. "Adam, you didn't screw anything up. What are you talking about? I don't want you to go anywhere."

 

Adam blinked, his lips parted, shaking his head slightly. "But... I kissed you, and... and I know you didn't want me to, and... and I..."

 

"But... I _did_ want you to."

 

Adam froze, not sure he'd heard Kris right at first. "Wh- _what_?"

 

"Adam, I... I wasn't going to tell you this, but... but I feel like at this point, I need to just be honest with you. It's the only way any of this is going to work out. You've been... lied to, and manipulated, and... and that's the last thing I ever want to do to you. I just need to... to tell you the truth, and you can do with it what you want. That's the only way."

 

Adam stayed silent, confused and uncertain, waiting for Kris to go on.

 

"I _did_ want you to kiss me, Adam. I... I've wanted that for a long time. In fact... my... _feelings,_ for you, are... well, it's why Katy broke up with me."

 

**************************************

 

 _God, I really hope this is the right thing... maybe I shouldn't be doing this..._

 

Adam just stared in disbelief, speechless -- offering no encouragement or even reaction -- and Kris's words became nervous and babbling under the weight of his silence.

 

"I... I think... I think I probably had... feelings for you, way back when you told me how you felt, before, but... but I didn't know it yet, and... and Katy figured it out before I did, but... but I _should_ have known. I was just trying to do the right thing, but... it would have been better for everyone if I'd just... just faced the truth, and... anyway, I'm sorry. I _do_ want you, Adam, I just... I wasn't going to tell you, because I didn't think you needed anything else to deal with right now..."

 

"You... weren't going to tell me?"

 

Kris fell silent, caught off guard by the quiet edge of unexpected anger in Adam's voice. He swallowed hard, unable to look away from Adam's inscrutable gaze. "Well... I... I just thought..."

 

"If you'd _told_ me to begin with, then none of this would have happened in the first place!"

 

Kris's heart sank with guilt and regret, and he looked away, blinking back tears. "I-I'm sorry..."

 

"Kris, if I'd known... if I'd thought there was a chance, but... but you just _walked away_ from me, and barely even said _goodbye_ , and Jordan was there, and he made me feel special and attractive and _wanted_ , and I just... I fell for it. Because I wanted _you,_ and I couldn't have you, but I couldn't stand to be alone, and God, Kris, why didn't you _tell me_?"

 

Adam's anguished sobs tore at Kris's emotions, and his tears slipped down his face, his words hoarse and breaking as he offered up his worthless regrets.

 

"Adam, I'm so sorry. I was just... I thought... I thought I was doing the right thing..."

 

"I know," Adam whispered, his shoulders trembling as he shook his head in despair. "I know, I just... everything could have been so different..." He was quiet for a moment before looking up at Kris again, his eyes glistening and red-rimmed. "And you weren't going to tell me now, either?"

 

"I just... I just don't think you're ready, Adam," Kris confessed, cringing inwardly at his own too-honest words. "I didn't want to... to make things harder for you..."

 

Adam let out a choked sob, shaking his head. "I'm not," he admitted. "I'm _not_ ready, but... I still want you, I never stopped, and I know we shouldn't be together right now, I know you don't deserve to have to deal with all my shit, but I just... I don't know what to do. I'm so confused, and... I just don't know how I even got here, Kris. How did this happen?"

 

When Adam broke down, his tears overtaking him, Kris ventured to place a cautious arm around him again. Adam tensed at first, and Kris almost withdrew, but followed his instincts and just kept holding Adam in a firm but gentle embrace. After a few seconds, Adam surrendered, leaning into Kris's arms and burying his face against Kris's shoulder as the tears flowed freely.

 

"Adam... you haven't done anything wrong," Kris assured him in a low murmur against his ear. "You didn't deserve this. It's... it's my fault that you ended up with Jordan, and... and I'll never forgive myself for that, but I want to help you now. I want to do anything I can to help you get out of this, if you'll let me."

 

Adam nodded against Kris's shoulder, and Kris trailed gentle fingertips through his hair, soothing him as he went on in a soft, cautious voice.

 

"And... if later on, you...   _are_ ready... and _I'm_ ready... then, we'll... well, we'll see what happens. We'll just... take it as it comes, Adam. We don't have to do anything or be anything. We'll just... see what happens."

 

He was quiet for a moment, drawing back and gently lifting Adam's chin, urging him to face him. Adam's wide, vulnerable, tearful gaze nearly took Kris's breath away, and he pushed back the impulse he felt to kiss those parted, trembling lips again, forcing himself to focus instead on what he needed Adam to understand.

 

"But, Adam... the first thing we have to focus on is making sure that you're safe… that Jordan can't ever touch you again. Let's just... deal with that first, and then see where we are. Okay?"

 

Adam nodded, sniffling and shaky, but a little more composed.

 

"And in the mean time... no matter what happens... I'm your friend, okay? That's not going to change, no matter what else happens... with Jordan, or between us... I never want to lose your friendship again. Okay?"

 

Adam nodded again, his shoulders falling with relief as he put his arms around Kris's waist and allowed his face to fall against his shoulder again. Kris just leaned back against the sofa, holding him close and caressing slow, soothing patterns up and down his back.

 

"I'm not going anywhere, Adam," Kris whispered, venturing a brief brush of his lips against Adam's temple as he closed his eyes and rested his cheek against Adam's head. "And neither are you. I promise."

 

**************************************

 

Leila was surprised to see Kris sitting at the kitchen table when she came downstairs the next morning, far earlier than either he or Adam was usually awake. He was sipping from a mug of coffee, and looked up to meet her eyes as she stopped in the doorway.

 

Instantly, she _knew._

 

She sat down across from him with a sigh, raising a hand to press against her suddenly aching brow.

 

"Oh, no..."

 

"We didn't... _do_ anything," Kris hurried to inform her, but his tone was calm and measured, and somehow reassuring to her. "But... he kissed me last night,  and... and we had to talk about it. I... I told him everything, and we… decided to wait until all this is over to decide... where we're gonna go from here."

 

Leila nodded slowly, taking that in. She sighed again, offering Kris a slight smile of resignation. "I don't know why I thought I could stop it..." She rose from her chair, making her way past Kris to the coffee pot, stopping beside him only long enough to deliver a light slap to the back of his head as she muttered with equal parts resentment and amusement, "Be careful with my son, Kris."

 

Kris flinched exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes and returning her smile -- but she saw a solemn promise in his dark eyes as he nodded and answered.

 

"I will. I promise."


	32. Chapter 32

“I don’t wanna do this…”

Adam’s voice was barely over a whisper, muffled against the soft fabric of Kris’s shirt. He was sitting on the edge of the table in a cool, bare exam room at the hospital, dressed in nothing but his underwear. Kris was standing beside him, his arms wrapped around Adam firmly, and he was alarmed at how hard Adam was shaking – so hard that the metal table on which he was seated rattled slightly with the motion.

“It’s gonna be all right,” Kris reassured him in a hushed murmur against his ear, running a hand soothingly up and down Adam’s back. “It’s just gonna be a few minutes, and it’ll all be over. The police photographer will be in, in just a minute, and he’s just gonna take a few pictures, and be done. Then we’ll talk to the doctor for a few minutes, and we can go home. I’m gonna be right here with you, okay? You’re totally safe, Adam…”

Adam nodded hurriedly against Kris’s shoulder, his breath ragged and uneven as he gulped in deep draughts of air, struggling to maintain some semblance of composure amidst the panic trying to take him over. Kris could only imagine the sense of shame and utter vulnerability he must have been feeling, waiting for a stranger to come in and take pictures of his battered, exposed body – waiting to tell a doctor he’d never seen before about the cause of his numerous injuries.

“We have to do it,” Kris reminded Adam gently, though he was also reminding himself. It hurt to think of Adam having to go through this, though he knew it was necessary. “We have to have the pictures and the doctor’s report to support our case against Jordan. I know this is scary, but you’re so brave to do it, Adam. And… we _have_ to do it.”

Adam drew back, letting out a soft scoffing sound, rolling his tear-filled eyes. “ _Brave_ ,” he echoed in disgust. “Right.”

“Adam…”

But before Kris could offer any argument, the door to the exam room opened. Instinctively Kris took a backward step toward the chair beside the table, self-conscious and unwilling to allow any stranger – even one sworn to professional secrecy – to see him and Adam in a compromising position. Even _they_ did not know the exact nature of their relationship at the moment; the last thing either of them needed, amidst all the other turmoil, was to see the media’s speculation all over the tabloids the next day.

Adam reluctantly rose from the table, standing against the wall and waiting in miserable silence as the photographer took his pictures. He kept his eyes closed the entire time, trying to block out this necessary violation, turning when instructed to do so to expose every possible angle of his abused body.

It had only been a few days, though they had felt like an eternity, since Jordan’s last attack on Adam; his pale skin was marred with countless bruises in various stages of healing. It seemed there was barely an inch of whole, unblemished flesh on his body, and Kris finally had to look away, struggling to suppress the rage that rose up within him at the sight of the unconscionable abuse that had been inflicted on his friend.

The entire process only took a couple of minutes, but Kris knew it had to have felt much longer to Adam.

As the door closed behind the photographer, Kris rose from the chair and went to Adam again, giving him a reassuring hug. “See? The worst is done, now. We just have to see the doctor for a few minutes… and then we can go home. It’s all right…”

The doctor who entered the room a couple of minutes later turned out to be very kind and compassionate. He didn’t even seem to notice that Kris had moved the chair closer to the exam table and that Adam’s uninjured hand was clasped firmly in his. He didn’t ask Kris to back off and give him room to work, though Kris was fairly certain he was at least a little in the way. He made a point of telling Adam what he was going to do before he did it, making sure he knew when he was going to be touched, and where, as he conducted a thorough but mercifully brief examination, making notes in a chart he carried, creating a log of Adam’s numerous injuries.

Adam flinched slightly as the doctor reached out a cautious hand to brush across his hip, meeting his eyes with a grim question in his gaze.

“Cigarette?”

Kris frowned, puzzled and unsure he’d heard the man right at first. Why would a _doctor_ of all people be offering Adam a cigarette – and in a public hospital, of all places? He was even more surprised when Adam swallowed hard before nodding hurriedly and staring down at the floor.

 _But… Adam doesn’t smoke…_

Kris stared at the place on Adam’s hip where the doctor had touched, and his eyes came to focus on several very small, circular marks that were not bruises or freckles – were not anything that Kris could readily identify.

And suddenly, though his mind rebelled and tried to shut out the fact that struck it with brutal horror – Kris understood.

 _He wasn’t_ offering _him a cigarette… he was_ asking _… if… if those marks were…_

 _That_ bastard _. I’ll_ kill _him…_

Adam basically shut down after that.

He answered the doctor’s questions – about how long the abuse had been going on, and the various broken bones he’d had over the past year, and what had happened to his hand – but kept his answers as short as possible, and didn’t make eye contact with either Kris or the doctor again until the exam was over.

They walked out to the car in silence, Adam’s eyes downcast, his arms wrapped protectively around himself as if to shut the rest of the world – including Kris – out.

In the car, the silence was too thick, too close – and Kris couldn’t abide it.

He found himself babbling on about how Jordan should have been served the restraining order some time that morning, and how the formal charges would be processed before the weekend, so it wouldn’t really matter since Jordan would be in jail anyway. Adam wasn’t really listening, Kris knew – staring out the passenger side window, his jaw set with his determination not to break down again – his eyes dry, but filled with unmistakable torment.

“He’s going to jail, Adam, and you’re the one who made that possible…” Kris just kept talking, not sure his words were doing any good – in fact, fairly certain that they weren’t – but he just couldn’t stop, couldn’t be quiet long enough to allow his mind to focus on the new information with which it’d been assaulted in the doctor’s office. “You’re so brave, Adam. You’re so much stronger than you think. This creep’s gonna get put away, and it’s all because of you…”

Adam didn’t answer, didn’t even look at Kris, the whole way home.

He seemed to want nothing more than to hide away in his own thoughts, no matter how dark and painful they might have been.

Kris refused to let him.

When the door of Kris’s house was safely locked behind them, Kris reached out to take Adam’s hand, holding on when he tried to pull away and leading him reluctantly toward the sofa to sit down.

“Come on, Adam,” he softly coaxed him, his voice gentle and pleading. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Adam whispered, his jaw set stubbornly, his eyes still averted.

“Yes, there is. Talking about it… helped, the other night. Why don’t you talk to me? Tell me what happened…”

“You _know_ what happened,” Adam snapped, an edge of warning in his voice. “There’s no need to talk about it…”

“ _You_ need to talk about it,” Kris insisted gently, squeezing Adam’s trembling hand. “You need to get this stuff out. I can see that it’s just… eating you alive, man. You can’t just keep holding it all in, or…”

“Or _what_?” Adam cut him off, his voice rising in anger as he jerked his hand away and rose to his feet. “Or you don’t get whatever twisted rush you get from hearing about it?” He ignored Kris’s flinch, the rising look of horror in his eyes as he shook his head in denial. “I told you I _don’t_ wanna _talk_ about it! Why do you wanna hear about it so bad? What kind of sick fuck _are_ you?”

Kris rose to his feet, taking a cautious step toward Adam, his hands extended in front of him, shaking his head. “Adam… Adam, _no_ … I just… I just wanna _help_ you, that’s all…”

“If you wanna _help_ me, then why can’t you just _leave me alone_!”

The anguish Adam was feeling was clear in his voice, the words torn from his throat on the edge of a sob. His face was flushed, and he couldn’t meet Kris’s eyes, and Kris realized the humiliation he must feel at having had his utter vulnerability on display for total strangers. In the wake of such a violation, Kris realized that Adam probably didn’t want to be seen at all, even by someone to whom he was as close as Kris.

“I’m sorry,” Kris whispered, edging nearer to him, a cautious hand extended toward Adam’s arm. “Adam, I’m so sorry…”

Adam’s eyes were closed, and he didn’t see Kris’s hand coming – and when it made contact, he flinched violently, jerking away hard enough that he stumbled back into the wall behind him. Kris cringed, hating himself for his carelessness, as Adam’s face turned a deeper shade of red, just before he covered it with his hands, struggling to catch his breath.

When he lowered his hands, his face was streaked with tears, his eyes glaring with defiant fury, yet touched with a despair so deep that it nearly took Kris’s breath.

“See?” Adam whispered, shaking his head, biting off each word with bitter self-disgust. “I am _so irreparably fucked up_ – why would you _ever_ want to be with me?”

His words tore at Kris’s heart, and he simply stood there, overwhelmed with the agony that his friend was feeling, as Adam swiftly retreated up the stairs to the guest bedroom. Kris paced back and forth in the living room for a few minutes, trying to figure out what he should do. He knew that Adam had asked to be left alone – and yet, Adam’s parting words left Kris aching to correct them, to let Adam know how deeply he loved him and wanted him, regardless of the overwhelming weight of turmoil and confusion he was struggling to deal with at the moment.

Finally, Kris made his way up the stairs, quietly knocking on the door before venturing into the bedroom.

Adam was lying on his side on the bed, his back turned toward Kris. His shoulders were shaking with silent sobs, his body curled into itself. Taking what slight encouragement he could from the fact that Adam had not yet asked him to leave, Kris cautiously crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside Adam. When Adam still offered no objection, Kris lay down behind him, his body parallel with Adam’s, and wrapped a gentle arm around his torso, holding him close in a silent offering of comfort.

Kris was immensely relieved when Adam suddenly, desperately grasped at his arm with both hands, as if he was afraid that if he let go, Kris might change his mind and leave. Kris’s heart ached when Adam pressed his cheek against Kris’s palm, and Kris felt the cool moisture of Adam’s tears against his skin.

“I’m sorry,” Adam whispered, pleading and broken. “I’m sorry, Kris, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Kris assured him, settling in closer beside Adam, the arm wrapped around him squeezing gently. “Adam, I… I told you I was gonna be here for you, and I meant it. This crap he’s put you through… these things you’re feeling… it’s not your fault. How could I blame you for that? How could I ever… ever _not_ want to be with you?”

Kris didn’t think, didn’t consider the weight of what he was doing, as he punctuated his words of devotion with a soft kiss to the part of Adam’s body nearest to his lips at the moment – the soft skin at the side of his throat.

Adam froze in Kris’s arms, and Kris’s heart sank with the sudden certainty that he’d made another mistake. But then, Adam turned in Kris’s arms, wide blue eyes seeking Kris’s gaze with a look that stole Kris’s breath away. There was desperate need in those eyes, something driving and frantic, longing for something to wash away the pain of the memories so fresh in his mind.

Kris was not surprised when Adam leaned in to capture his mouth in a deep, desperate kiss.

He returned it for just a moment, as desperate for Adam as Adam was for him – but then drew back abruptly with a breathless gasp, shaking his head. “Adam… no…”

“I know I’m not ready for more,” Adam whispered, a pleading expression in his eyes that tugged at Kris’s heart and wouldn’t allow him to deny him. “I’m… not asking for anything else, but… but please… please just kiss me…”

“We’re… we’re not supposed to…”

“Why not?” Adam whispered, fresh tears streaking his face before he closed his eyes and lowered his head against Kris’s chest, clutching at his arms with trembling hands, his voice so soft that Kris barely caught the words. “I’m already so fucked up that it doesn’t really matter, does it? It can’t get any worse. All I know is I _need_ you, Kris, I need you, _please_ …”

His voice broke over the words, and his shoulders shook – and Kris couldn’t tell him no again.

He gently raised Adam’s head to face him again, drinking in the need in Adam’s eyes, even as alarm bells screamed in his head that this was not right, not what either of them really needed right now. Adam’s lower lip trembled slightly, and his hands tightened on Kris’s arms in a silent plea – and Kris shut out the warning voice in his head, leaning in to press a tender, searching kiss to Adam’s lips as his arms slid around him and pulled him into a deeper embrace.


	33. Chapter 33

Kris was cautious, gentle – aware that while Adam said he wanted this, had _begged_ him for this, he might still be frightened if Kris came on too strong. His heart was racing, his hands aching to touch, to grasp, to draw Adam in closer to him; but Kris forced himself to slow down, barely venturing to rest his hand against Adam’s side as Adam’s mouth yielded, trembling, under Kris’s lips.

Only when Adam’s hand covered his, sliding it under the hem of his soft, cotton t-shirt, did Kris dare to trace his fingers along the silky soft skin beneath them. A little shiver passed through Adam’s body at the contact, and Kris froze momentarily, remembering the deep bruises that marred Adam’s ribs. He drew back slightly, his lips brushing against Adam’s as he spoke, impatient desire warring with concern in his trembling words.

“Did I hurt you? Should I stop?”

“N-no,” Adam whispered, drawing back to meet Kris’s eyes, his own wide and uncertain, yet filled with longing. “Don’t… don’t stop…”

*************************

 _It’s okay. He won’t hurt you. He’s not like Jordan…_

Adam’s hands shook as he slid them tentatively around Kris’s waist, pulling him over, half on top of him as he lay back on the bed. His breath was rapid and uneven as he fought back the edges of panic pressing into his thoughts, taking comfort in the fact that Kris cared enough to wonder whether or not he was hurting him in the first place.

 _Jordan wouldn’t have bothered to ask…_

His lips parted as he lifted his head, seeking to lose himself in Kris’s kiss again, trying to shut out the fearful memories that filled his mind with the slightest intimate brush of Kris’s hand. His stomach lurched as his mind went back to the feeling of larger, rougher hands, grasping and possessive… a much larger frame pinning him down and crushing him beneath its weight. Adam quickly opened his eyes again, focusing on Kris’s face. Kris’s eyes were closed when Adam looked at him, but he opened them for a moment… and then went very still, alarm in his expression.

“What is it, Adam?” he whispered. “What’s the matter?”

*********************************

“Nothing…” Adam’s voice was hoarse, shaky. “I just… n-need to… _see_ you…”

The fear in his eyes tore at Kris’s heart, and he reminded himself for the hundredth time that minute to slow down, be careful, not do anything to scare Adam any more than he was already scared. He wondered at what thoughts must be filling Adam’s mind – what memories that he could only drive away by seeing for himself that it was _Kris_ who was with him now, and not someone else.

 _Gentle… easy… he’s so fragile right now…_

Kris didn’t realize how much he’d eased his touch, to the point where his fingers were barely brushing over Adam’s skin, until Adam grasped his wrist and firmly placed Kris’s hand against his side, meeting his gaze with a desperate fire in his eyes.

“Come on,” he urged him with more force than Kris had heard in his voice yet. “You’re not gonna _break_ me…”

 _No…_

Kris’s chest filled with a dull ache of sorrow as his hand slid up under Adam’s shirt, caressing more firmly up his back as he leaned in to kiss him again.

 _No… you’re already broken…_

*********************************

 _Stupid, stupid… he’s scared to_ touch _you because you’re being such a pathetic, useless little coward. He’s not Jordan, and there’s nothing to be scared of; he’s not going to hurt you. Just get over it, Adam, you_ asked _for this, didn’t you?_

But now that he’d gotten what he’d asked for, it all felt like too much.

Kris’s hands, one running over his skin, the other gently tugging through his hair; Kris’s mouth softly claiming his with a kiss that gradually, cautiously grew firmer and more forceful; the weight of Kris’s body – slighter and less restrictive than Jordan’s, but still pressing him down against the bed – it was all familiar enough in all the wrong ways to set Adam’s heart to racing and fill him with a sick sense of panic.

 _But you’re the one who pushed him into this. You wanted it. You_ always _want it, you worthless little slut. You can’t just tell a guy you want him,_ need _him, and then push him away. And after all he’s done for you… all he’s_ doing _for you… you can’t ask him to stop now…_

*************************************

Kris felt the trembling of Adam’s body beneath him and felt a moment’s apprehension, but Adam’s hands holding him close, Adam’s willing, responsive mouth accepting his kiss, told him that this was what Adam wanted. Adam had told him not to stop, and Kris couldn’t imagine what it might do to Adam’s fledgling confidence and trust if Kris rejected him now.

And besides… Kris didn’t _want_ to stop.

Kris’s fingers tightened instinctively in Adam’s hair as he deepened their kiss, his free hand sliding down Adam’s side to rest on his hip. All at once a shudder passed through Adam’s body, and he pulled his mouth away, turning his head to the side with a breathless, ragged gasp.

“ _Please_ …”

The word was barely a breath, but Kris could clearly hear the frantic desperation in the sound.

He immediately let go of Adam, searching his face with worried eyes. Adam’s eyes were closed, and he was shaking his head rapidly, his breath shallow and uneven. His hands pressed lightly against Kris’s chest, as if to hold him off, though they were trembling and not applying much pressure – as if he didn’t quite dare to go so far as to actually push Kris away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m s-sorry, Kris, just… please… please, can we stop? Please…”

“Of course we can,” Kris assured him, swiftly backing off and sitting up on the bed beside him as Adam scrambled backward into a sitting position, his knees drawn up in front of him. “Adam, it’s okay… it’s okay…”

Adam looked up at him, his face flushed with shame and eyes wet with tears, as he reached out desperately to grasp Kris’s hand… a silent plea for him not to leave.

“I’m sorry,” Adam softly repeated. “I’m sorry, I… I thought I was ready, but… I’m sorry, Kris…”

“Hey…” Kris’s voice was low and reassuring as he cautiously ventured closer, Adam’s hand clasped in his. Kris pressed his free hand to Adam’s cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb as he gently pushed his face up, silently urging Adam to look at him. “Adam… there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

As Adam studied Kris’s expression, his lips trembling, his eyes tearful, relief and gratitude slowly took the place of shame and fear, and he suddenly grabbed Kris and pulled him into a tight embrace, burying his face against Kris’s shoulder and holding on to him as if for his very life.

Bewildered, Kris simply settled in beside him, holding him close and gently rubbing his back in slow, soothing motions, his mind racing with the implications of Adam’s unexpected reaction. As his thoughts slowly cleared, Kris began to feel sick as he considered Adam’s panic – not at a moment of anger, or an unexpected quick movement near him… but at a soft, intimate touch. The image of the tiny round marks the doctor had pointed out earlier sprang to Kris’s mind, with sudden realization.

Those marks were low on Adam’s hips – far too low to have been left there while Adam was clothed.

 _That sick bastard. What did he_ do _to him? Did he actually…_ get off, _on… on…_

The mental images that accompanied Kris’s questions made him want to throw up. Unbidden, thoughts filled his mind of Adam, begging Jordan to stop, pleading with him not to hurt him – or too frightened to voice any protest at all, too afraid that whatever retaliation Jordan might give him for daring to object to his twisted games might be worse than those games themselves. A new, horrifying thought crossed Kris’s mind, and his mouth went dry, his stomach lurching with dismay.

 _My God. Did he actually think that… that I_ wouldn’t _stop…?_

Adam was still apologizing, crying softly, and Kris reassured him with quiet, soothing words, gently stroking his back and holding him close. “It’s all right. It’s no big deal, Adam. We were going to wait, anyway, right? So… we’ll wait. You never have to apologize for asking me to wait, okay? I’ll stop if you wanna stop.” Kris paused, hesitating before continuing in a low, measured voice. “I’ll… _always_ stop… if you wanna stop. Okay? _Always_.”

The little shiver that ran through Adam’s body at those words, the way his trembling hands grasped at Kris a little tighter, only served to confirm Kris’s darkest suspicions. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he pressed a soft kiss to Adam’s temple as he cradled the back of his head gently, being careful not to hold him too tightly… not to make him feel restrained. His voice was hushed – a low, whispered vow – when he spoke again.

“I would _never hurt you_ , Adam. Never. I promise.”

Adam nodded against Kris’s shoulder, a convulsive swallow audible in his throat. “I know,” he whispered automatically, his voice thick with tears.

“No.” Kris’s voice was calm and certain as he slowly shook his head. “No, you don’t. But… you will.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes longer, Kris just holding Adam close, and Adam hiding his face, unwilling to look at Kris in the shame of his brokenness. Even when after a few minutes, Adam lowered his head to rest it across Kris’s legs, weary and exhausted, he still kept his eyes closed and his face turned away.

It broke Kris’s heart to think how much he still blamed himself, how he felt that the things that had been done to him somehow made him shameful and unworthy. Jordan had told him over and over that he _deserved_ to be hurt and degraded – that he brought the abuse on himself somehow – and no matter how much he might have denied it… Adam believed him.

 _I’ll make him understand that that’s not true,_ Kris silently vowed, staring down at the trembling, vulnerable form of his friend in his arms. _Somehow, eventually… I’ll make him remember what an incredible person he is… all the things that Jordan made him forget about how amazing he is._

Kris slowly stroked Adam’s hair, relaxing a little as he felt Adam’s body go still and heavy against him, and knew that he was drifting off to sleep. Kris knew that it was a coping mechanism – a way of, for a little while, shutting out the problems that were too big to deal with and escaping into nothingness. Kris imagined all the turmoil and confusion and constant terror of doing the wrong thing and being punished for it that Adam must have endured over the past year – and thought that in reality, the extra rest was probably very much needed.

Kris was just beginning to drift off himself, into a restless sleep filled with vague, troubling dreams, when a soft knock on the bedroom door roused him with a start. He glanced down at Adam, relieved to see that he was still asleep, before looking up to see Leila standing in the doorway. She was looking at Adam as well, a softness and sorrow in her eyes that Kris recognized – because he felt it himself. After a moment, Leila looked up to meet Kris’s eyes with a tight, wary smile.

“The prosecutor’s office just called.”

Kris was careful not to disturb Adam, but he sat up a little straighter, his heart in his throat, his expectant gaze locked onto Leila’s face. “And?”

“They just took Jordan into custody. He’s been arrested on charges of domestic battery and felony coercion.” Her expression slowly faded into a smile of grim satisfaction. “His arraignment is Monday morning.”


	34. Chapter 34

_Adam stormed into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him._

 _Jordan was in the kitchen,  and wasn’t near enough to notice the slamming door, Adam was sure – not that he cared at the moment. He had thought things were going better between them. It had been weeks since Jordan had lost his temper with him, and he’d even surprised Adam with the romantic dinner out they’d shared that night. The evening had been perfectly wonderful, the kind they hadn’t had in what seemed like months._

 _And then, Jordan had to ruin it with his cruel remarks – and in public no less._

 _The door opened abruptly, and Adam’s stomach lurched as Jordan came inside, closing it quietly behind him. His voice was low, soft with an edge of warning._

 _“Don’t slam the door on me, Adam.”_

Guess he was close enough to hear that, after all.

 _Still hurt and humiliated, Adam turned away, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Go away,” he muttered, sniffling back embarrassed tears._

 _Jordan didn’t go away, but rather slipped up behind him, one hand sliding up the side of Adam’s neck to tilt his head back, as his lips began to trail soft, teasing kisses along the column of his throat. Adam turned abruptly before Jordan’s other arm could wrap around his waist, stepping backward out of the reach of Jordan’s attempts at affection. He was in no mood to be forgiving after the way he’d been treated._

 _“You practically called me a whore in front of our server, and the manager!” His voice trembled with offended accusation. “There were_ reporters _in that restaurant, Jordan! I know they were being subtle, but they were_ there, _and how could you…”_

 _The rest of his words were cut off in a vicious, breathtaking slap across his face that sent him stumbling backward toward the bed, where he lost his balance and fell hard onto the floor beside it, his back against the nightstand, his knees folded in front of him. Jordan wasted no time in closing the distance between them, grabbing Adam’s jaw and shoving his head back hard against the wooden nightstand. Adam let out a choked whimper of protest, but Jordan’s free hand dug into his thigh, a silent warning to silence – and Adam fell silent._

 _“It was a_ joke _, Adam.” Jordan’s words dripped with contempt as he shook Adam slightly, and Adam bit back a cry of pain. “How could I? How could I joke about you being a stupid little slut? I guess it’s about as easy as it was for you to_ act _like one, isn’t it? If you hadn’t been flirting with our server all evening, it wouldn’t have entered my mind!”_

 _“I’m sorry,” Adam choked out as Jordan’s hand slid downward to lock around his throat, restricting his breath. His trembling hand caught weakly at Jordan’s wrist, but his efforts to dislodge it were useless. “Please… I’m sorry…”_

 _“Shut up,” Jordan hissed in his ear before pressing a series of slow, possessive kisses along the line of his throat. When he looked up to meet Adam’s gaze, Jordan’s eyes were dark with rage, and his grip tightened on Adam’s throat until he saw stars. “You can act like a total whore for strangers every single night on stage, but when your own boyfriend tries to kiss you, you’re gonna try to freeze me out? I don’t think so, Adam…”_

 _“I’m sorry,” Adam gasped, pleading. “I won’t…”_

 _“I said_ shut up _!” Jordan snarled, backhanding Adam across the face with stunning force before leaning in close, shaking him and breathing out menacing words against his skin. “You are_ mine _, Adam. You belong to_ me _, and you will do whatever the hell I_ tell _you to do, do you understand me?”_

 _Adam nodded, biting back the pleading words that wanted to pour from his lips, knowing they would only anger Jordan further – and Jordan at last backed off, standing up straight. He pushed Adam forward a little to open the drawer of the nightstand, and Adam complied, leaning against the side of the bed, his eyes closed, one hand clasping his bruised throat as he struggled to catch his breath._

 _“Take off your clothes, Adam.”_

 _Adam looked up at Jordan in alarm – which only intensified when he saw the pair of police-issue handcuffs swinging from Jordan’s hand. His mouth went dry, and he looked up pleadingly into Jordan’s eyes, shaking his head with dread._

 _“Please,” he whispered hoarsely. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want, just… just not like this. I_ love _you, Jordan,_ please _…”_

 _He bit off the words in panic as Jordan crouched beside him again, tossing the handcuffs onto the bed and grasping a handful of Adam’s hair to jerk his head back painfully hard. Jordan’s large hand wrapped around Adam’s lightly bound ribs – still badly bruised from the last time Adam had pushed him too far – and squeezed slowly, methodically. He studied Adam’s face with a cold smile on his lips, until Adam’s breath sped up and a soft, pleading whimper escaped his mouth._

 _“Don’t make me tell you again, Adam,” Jordan warned softly. “You’re_ mine _… and you’re going to be a good boy and do as you’re told… aren’t you?”_

 _Adam nodded, breathless, tears of fear and pain and humiliation streaming from his eyes. “Yes,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry… I’ll do what you say, please…”_

 _“I want you to shut your_ stupid, whoring mouth _…” Jordan snarled, shaking him by the grip he had on his hair – and Adam obeyed, biting down on his lip until he tasted his own blood in order to keep silent. Jordan’s voice softened as he leaned in closer, releasing Adam’s bruised ribs to run the backs of his fingers down his cheek in a cruel parody of affection, a smile replacing his menacing glare as he gently brushed away the tears that stained Adam's cheek. “… and take off your clothes.”_

 _This time, when Jordan let him go and stood up, Adam began obediently unfastening his shirt with shaking fingers that could barely function, his eyes drifting with dread toward the set of handcuffs on the mattress beside him, his mind filling with the countless torments Jordan had inflicted upon him in the past… and imagining what new punishments he might have in store for tonight’s infraction…_

 _******************************************_

“Adam… baby, wake up…”

Adam sat up with a gasp, jerking away from the gentle hand on his shoulder. When he recognized his mother’s concerned face, Adam quickly tried to recover, sitting up and brushing a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing.

“Mom… what… what time is it?” he asked, his voice trembling as she moved to sit down beside him, and he automatically moved over to give her room.

She put her arm around him, leaning back against the headboard and pulling him over to lean against her side before answering, “A little after eight. You could sleep a little longer if you wanted.”

A shudder passed through Adam, and he shook his head. “No. I’ve slept enough.”

Leila nodded. “Good. Me too.” She paused a moment, running her long, well-manicured fingertips idly through Adam’s hair, gently scratching his scalp in the way that he had begged her to do when he was a small boy, and still secretly loved, though he was well beyond asking for it. When she spoke again, her voice was thoughtful yet subtly teasing. “So… it’s Saturday… Jordan’s in jail… we’re both up early… and Kris is downstairs making the coffee…”

Her voice trailed off, and Adam raised his head reluctantly to look at her, a puzzled and vaguely suspicious frown on his face. “What’s your point?”

She met his eyes with a sly, tempting smile. “Don’t you think it’s about time we got out of this house?”

**********************************

Kris’s enthusiastic suggestion was Six Flags.

There was a Six Flags in LA, but all three quickly agreed that the last thing they needed was to stay in town, where they would certainly be hounded by paparazzi wherever they went. It was still early, so Kris suggested a road trip to the Six Flags in San Francisco.

“That’s six hours!” Adam protested.

Kris smirked. “Not the way _I_ drive.”

He was true to his word, and they made it there by just after one.

Adam still thought it was an awfully long way to drive for roller coasters and over-priced, artery-clogging food – but soon realized what a tremendous relief it was to be somewhere where no one really seemed to notice him. A well-worn baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses kept his most noticeable features concealed, and he was able to enjoy the park with his mother and Kris without being disturbed.

As they got off the Batman ride, Kris was already breaking into a slow jog, child-like eagerness on his face. “Come on! I wanna find Mr. Freeze!”

Adam rolled his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “That ride’s not worth the wait in line!” he protested. “It’s over in thirty seconds!”

“But it’s the best thirty seconds of your life!” Kris insisted, wide-eyed with indignation at Adam’s words.

Adam raised a dubious brow in his direction, a slight smirk turning up the corner of his mouth. “Maybe _your_ life… I don’t know about you, but there’s a lot that can be done in thirty seconds…”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Jordan’s voice was echoing in his mind.

 _See? You really are such a slut. Can’t you go five minutes without…_

“Come on!” The sudden warmth of Kris’s hand wrapped around his jolted Adam out of his thoughts, as Kris began to tug him down the curving path toward the roller coaster he wanted to ride. “Mr. Freeze is this way, and I want you to ride with me!”

The simple affection in Kris’s words and the reassurance of their joined hands made Adam forget what he had been worrying about before, and he found himself laughing at Kris’s unashamed exuberance – especially when Kris stopped after they’d made it halfway across the park, suddenly realizing that they’d gone the wrong way. They slowed to a walk as they changed direction – but Kris did not let go of Adam’s hand.

Adam didn’t want him to let go.

As the pleasant hours wore on, Adam, Kris and Leila took turns riding together until they had ridden every roller coaster in the park. Only once they were sure they hadn’t missed anything they wanted to ride did they decide to explore the various amusement park delicacies on display. Adam was hungry, but hesitant to eat any of the many fried, battered, sugar-coated, and utterly unhealthy foods, no matter how delicious he knew they were.

 _You’re already fat enough already. Jordan’s always telling you that. The last thing you need is to stuff yourself with junk food…_

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Kris nudged him as he returned to the bench where Adam waited, an enormous funnel cake on a paper plate that wasn’t nearly large enough to contain it clutched in his hands. “I can’t eat this whole thing _myself_!”

“Well… maybe I’ll just… _taste_ it…”

That “taste” turned into more than half of Kris’s funnel cake – not that Kris was going hungry. He also had a huge container of popcorn, a giant turkey leg, and a caramel apple – which he managed to talk Adam into sharing with him as well.

They were getting into the car that evening around eight when Adam realized that he’d barely given Jordan a thought all day. With him locked away in jail, unable to touch Adam or the people he loved… in a place so far from everything that was familiar, it was easy to forget the fears that tormented his everyday thoughts.

“I’m tired,” Leila announced as she got into the backseat. “Think I’ll stretch out back here. You boys don’t mind, do you?”

“Nah,” Kris assured her as he got into the driver’s seat.

When Adam slid into the passenger seat, Kris was staring at him with the beginnings of a frown. He swallowed, self-consciously averting his eyes for a moment before looking uncertainly up at Kris again.

“Not yet,” Kris whispered.

Adam blinked, confused. “What?”

“The day’s… not over yet,” Kris clarified softly. His meaning was just beginning to dawn on Adam when Kris added, a pleading note to his voice as he clasped Adam’s hand and drew him across the seat a little closer. “Don’t think about it yet. Okay? Just… enjoy the ride with me.”

Adam hesitated a moment, honestly unsure whether or not he was capable of fulfilling that request.

“Please,” Kris whispered. “Today’s been… _perfect_. Hasn’t it?”

Adam nodded, then smiled, a little shyly. “Yeah. It… it has.”

Kris and Adam kept up a quiet but steady conversation for a little while after that, and Adam found it surprisingly easy to shut out the thoughts that clamored for his attention in the back of his mind. After a while, the soothing, steady motion of the car began to lull him to a peaceful, sleepy state, and the two of them fell into silence. Adam glanced over his shoulder at his mother, sleeping in the backseat, then looked at Kris, biting his lower lip uncertainly.

After a moment’s hesitation, he scooted over a little in his seat and rested his head on Kris’s shoulder, tense and ready in case Kris should ask him to move – or just seem uncomfortable with it.

Kris didn’t.

In fact, a few seconds later, Adam felt Kris’ arm slide up behind his back, felt Kris’s fingers sliding through his hair in a steady motion that was far more soothing and hypnotic even than the motion of the ride. Adam settled in closer to Kris, allowing himself to relax and closing his eyes. Before he’d even realized he’d spoken, his thoughts were carried out on a wistful whisper.

“I love this day.”

“Me, too,” Kris murmured in response, turning his head to softly kiss the top of Adam’s head.

“I wish… I wish every day could be like this…”

Kris’s arm around him tightened slightly, and Adam could feel the protective affection in the gesture. There was a moment’s silence before Kris offered softly, “It _can_ be.”

Adam spent the next few minutes trying to decide whether or not he believed that to be true – before conscious thought slowly faded into feeling and sensation, and he drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.


	35. Chapter 35

“Adam! Adam, over here!”

“Adam! How long have you and Jordan Brenner been split up?”

“This way, Adam! Are you and Kris Allen officially together?”

“What charges are being brought against your ex-boyfriend, Adam?”

Adam was trying to keep his composure as they made their way up the courthouse steps, but Kris knew better. He could feel Adam’s shoulders trembling beneath his arm, as he tried his best to shield him from the paparazzi – but they were everywhere, surrounding them, and there was no way that Kris could keep them all from getting close.

“Don’t say anything,” Kris whispered, giving Adam’s shoulders a gentle, almost imperceptible squeeze before turning to face the paparazzi to his right. “Mr. Lambert will not be answering any questions at this time. Please, just let us get inside.”

Adam kept his head down, the fading – but still visible – bruises around his eye covered by a large pair of dark sunglasses. He drew in a deep, shaky breath in relief as the doors closed behind them, and the press remained outside. Due to the high level of celebrity of Adam’s case, the judge had ordered the courtroom closed – and Kris had never been more thankful for anything in his life.

The last thing Adam needed was for every detail of what was about to happen to be public knowledge.

“It’s all right,” Leila said softly, her arm around Adam’s waist from the other side as they steered him toward the right room. “Everything is going to be fine.”

Adam nodded hurriedly, but Kris knew that he was not convinced. Just outside the courtroom doors, Adam froze, planting his feet – and Kris was reminded that, despite his deceptively fragile emotional state, Adam was no physical weakling. If he did not want to move, neither Kris nor Leila, nor even their combined efforts could budge him. The small, trembling voice that passed through his lips did not match the strength of his stance, however.

“I… d-don’t wanna do this…”

“You have to, Adam.”

Leila’s voice was gentle but stern as she moved to stand in front of him, facing her son and demanding his full attention. Kris opened his mouth to protest, troubled by Adam’s terror, and thinking that if he really did not want to be there, there was no reason why they couldn’t turn around and go home. It was just the arraignment. They could call the prosecutor’s office later and find out the details of what had happened if Adam was really too frightened to stay and see it for himself.

Leila, apparently, had other ideas.

“If you can’t face him _now_ – when you don’t have to speak, don’t have to do anything but just be there – then how are you going to testify against him when that time comes?”

Kris realized with a sinking heart that she was right. They could spare Adam this trauma in the short term – but it would really be doing him a disservice to allow him to retreat now. Kris knew that he was terrified of facing Jordan, even knowing that Jordan would be in shackles and under guard – but Jordan would be sitting in the courtroom when it came time for Adam to testify, too.

“Adam, we’re right here,” Kris said softly, reaching out to touch Adam’s arm. “You’re not going into this alone, okay? He can’t touch you.”

“I know,” Adam whispered. “I know, it’s just… I haven’t… seen him since… and… what if he…?”

“What if he what?” Leila prodded gently. “Adam, he can’t hurt you. We’ll just… sit there in the back of the room and listen, and see what the judge says. All right? At least that way, you’ll know where we go from here. Okay?”

Adam’s eyes were downcast, averted, as he wrestled with his fears, struggling to find the strength to walk through those doors. Finally, he frowned, biting down on his lower lip, and nodded.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I’m… I’m ready. Let’s go.”

******************************

 _Oh, God, I’m not ready… I can’t do this… please don’t make me do this…_

Adam’s thoughts were a muddle of pleading, disjointed words, his stomach churning, his palms damp, as they made their way into the courtroom. He tried to focus on the quiet strength and support he could feel emanating from his mother and Kris; but as soon as he saw Jordan’s familiar frame at the front of the room, being led to his seat between two police officers who were both shorter and slighter than he was – Adam could focus on nothing and no one else.

At the sound of the doors opening, Jordan turned his head, and his icy grey eyes locked with Adam’s. Adam’s stomach dropped, and he froze where he stood, his heart racing with panic, the world spinning around him.

Adam felt Kris’s hand slide into his, and an icy sense of dread stole over him as Jordan’s steely gaze dropped immediately to their joined hands. Adam tore his hand away as if burned by Kris’s touch, as he forced himself to look away from Jordan, swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat. He hurried his pace, moving to sit down in the back row of the courtroom – cringing slightly when Kris took the seat right beside him.

 _What else did you expect him to do? He’s here to support_ you.

“Adam?” Kris whispered, leaning forward once he was seated, trying to catch Adam’s lowered gaze. “What is it? Why did you…?”

Adam’s face felt hot with shame and embarrassment, and he couldn’t look at Kris as he mumbled out some half-assed explanation about cameras and reporters and rumors. He wasn’t looking at Kris, but Adam could perfectly picture the skeptical look on Kris’s face as he reminded him gently.

“Adam, they’re not allowed in here. There are no cameras. It’s okay, really…”

Kris reached out to take his hand, and Adam jerked it away again, his voice sharper than he intended as he snapped, “ _No_.”

He glanced up toward Jordan, feeling an utterly confusing mixture of relief and shame when he saw the smile of satisfaction on Jordan’s face. After a moment of tense, awkward silence, Adam finally ventured to glance at Kris, who was sitting back in his seat, an unhappy expression on his face as he cast a look between Adam and Jordan before meeting Adam’s eyes sadly.

“You don’t have to please him anymore, Adam,” Kris whispered, his voice barely audible even to Adam, so he knew that no one else could hear it. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Adam looked away, offering no response, his hands clenched into fists on the armrests of his seat. The tension was unbearable for the few moments that passed before the bailiff called them all to their feet and announced the arrival of the judge. Adam listened with dread as the judge read the charges that had been placed against Jordan – domestic battery and felony coercion – and then asked Jordan how he pled.

Jordan’s voice was quiet and respectful, and he made eye contact as he replied, “Not guilty, Your Honor.”

“Like hell,” Kris whispered under his breath, too soft for anyone but Adam to hear it.

Adam wanted to reach for his hand then, feeling a rush of affection and gratitude for the support Kris was offering him – but he didn’t dare. His mind filled with the image of Jordan’s face, if he should happen to turn around and see Adam holding hands with Kris, and panic threatened to overwhelm him again.

 _He’d kill me. But…_ God _, the things he’d do to me first! No… I can’t… can’t let him see…_

“Your Honor, the state asks that, due to the violent nature of the defendant’s offenses, bail be denied.”

Adam listened closely, sitting forward a little as the defense attorney countered the prosecution’s request.

“Your Honor, my client is an upstanding citizen of this state with no criminal record. He has been charged, but may I remind the court that he has not yet been convicted of _anything_. He owns local property, and has an established life in this community. He is not a flight risk, Your Honor.”

“Your Honor, the property the defendant supposedly owns was stolen from his partner – the person he’s charged with battering!” the prosecutor protested, her voice rising slightly with indignation. “If he’s allowed to go free, what’s to stop him from attacking his victim again?”

“Counselor, I’ll remind you that, as the attorney for Mr. Brenner has stated – it has not yet been proven that the defendant attacked the _alleged_ victim in the first place.” The judge’s tone was severe and disapproving, and Adam’s heart sank as she continued, “I’m going to grant Mr. Brenner bail, in the amount of $100,000.” She turned her stern, warning gaze on Jordan, who was smiling and nodding with relieved satisfaction, as she added, “I am also going to place an order of protection preventing you from going within one hundred feet of the alleged victim, Mr. Lambert – or his family. You may not contact him in any way. No phone calls, written correspondence, no communication of any kind. Is that understood, Mr. Brenner?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Jordan answered solemnly, his expression serious and respectful.

“Your Honor,” the defense attorney spoke up again. “Mr. Brenner is also involved in a civil suit that’s been brought against him on the matter of the property in question. That is not a criminal proceeding, considered to be a private matter, but… he will not have any choice but to come nearer than one hundred feet to Mr. Lambert in that case…”

“That will be the obvious exception, Counsellor,” the judge cut him off, a little impatiently. “Outside of those proceedings, and these, however – there is to be no contact of any kind between the two. If the order of protection is violated, the defendant’s bail will be revoked, and he will spend the remaining time before his trial in jail – no excuses. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Good.” The judge paused, glancing through some papers on her desk before speaking again. “Mr. Brenner, your plea of ‘not guilty’ is recognized by the court, and your trial date is set for Monday, September 14th – six weeks from today.”

“Six weeks!” Leila echoed softly, dismayed. “That’s so long! And they’re going to let him just _go home_ – to _your_ house!”

Adam shook his head, closing his eyes. “It’s okay, Mom,” he whispered, his voice low and listless with resignation. “It’s… not that long.”

But as they rose to leave, and the guards began to escort Jordan out of the courtroom, Adam couldn’t stop himself from glancing toward Jordan again – and immediately wished he hadn’t. Jordan caught his gaze, stopping still for a moment as his lips twisted upward into just a hint of a cold, malicious smirk. Adam’s skin crawled, and he suddenly wanted to flee, to escape. The dark, unreasonable part of his mind that was still enslaved to Jordan’s control screamed at him that the police, the shackles – none of it mattered. Jordan could kill him if he wanted to – and after this, he _definitely_ wanted to.

Adam’s legs shook as he pushed past Kris toward the exit, his mind screaming only one single panicked thought over and over again.

 _Get out, get out, get out!_

Kris and Leila caught up with him down the hall, out of sight of the courtroom. He was braced against the wall with one hand, nearly doubled over and gasping for breath – on the verge of a full-fledged panic attack.

“Sweetie, come here,” Leila gently urged him, taking his arms and guiding him a few steps to a nearby bench. “Sit down, Adam. Breathe, honey, okay? It’s all right. It’s over.”

“No,” Adam whispered, dread swelling up in his chest and threatening to suffocate him. “No, it’s not over at all…”

“It’s just a few weeks – and in the mean time, he can’t come near you,” Leila assured him. “Just a few short weeks, and he’ll be put away for good.”

Adam nodded, pretending to accept her reassurances, not wanting to upset her – but he knew that the restraining order meant nothing. Jordan was not going to give up so easily. Jordan had told Adam so many times before that he was _Jordan’s_ – that no one could protect him or stop Jordan from getting to him if he wanted to – and Adam knew, deep down, that it was true.

Only six weeks – but they felt like a lifetime.

 _A lot can happen in six weeks…_

The menacing words in Adam’s head seemed to be spoken with Jordan’s voice, and he suppressed a shudder, struggling to catch his breath and regain his composure, all too aware of the two sets of concerned eyes focused completely on him.

 _Just a few weeks, but…_

 _… will you still be alive at the end of them?_


	36. Chapter 36

Kris stood there, feeling useless and uncertain, as Leila did her best to talk Adam back from the brink of his panic attack. After the way Adam had reacted in the courtroom, Kris didn’t dare venture to touch him, afraid that doing so might only make things worse. Kris felt relieved, but also sort of awkward and left out, as Adam grew calm again, and the three of them headed out to the car.

They pushed past the crowd of reporters and photographers waiting to pounce once again as they left, and Kris was relieved once the car doors closed behind them, shutting out the cacophony of shouting voices. As usual, Adam sat in the front beside him, while Leila rode in the back – but this ride was different.

The distance between the two of them was thick, almost tangible.

Adam leaned his head against the window, his eyes closed, his arms crossed tightly across his stomach – clearly shutting Kris out. Kris’s hands itched to reach out across the distance, to take Adam’s hand or pull him into his embrace – but he didn’t want to push anything on Adam that he didn’t want. Leila’s quiet voice in the backseat – thinking out loud about the plans they would need to make over the next few weeks, details that might help their case, things they could do to make sure that they were safe – was the only sound to fill the silence, and Kris was grateful for it.

When they reached the house, Adam went upstairs without a word, going into the bedroom and closing the door – but as Kris climbed the stairs behind him, he noticed that Adam had failed to close it all the way. Kris hesitated. Adam had shut him out of this room before – but those times, he had closed the door completely. Kris knew it was a minor detail, probably meant nothing – but his instincts were telling him that maybe it meant more.

 _Maybe… he left it open a little because… he wants me to come in… he’s_ hoping _I’ll come in…_

Kris knocked softly on the door, opening it a crack more, enough for him to see Adam standing beside the bed – and the sight of him tore at Kris’s heart. Adam’s back was turned to Kris, but his shoulders were shaking, and his hands were raised to cover his face.

“Adam?” Kris kept his voice soft and cautious. “Can I come in?”

Adam didn’t respond, and Kris hesitated – but then decided to trust his instincts. He slipped past the door, closing it quietly behind him, and slowly, carefully approached the spot where Adam stood.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly – then winced, a self-deprecating grimace twisting his lips. “I mean… that’s probably a stupid question, but… can I get some specifics here?”

Adam turned suddenly to face him, his face streaked with tears, his expression despairing. “I’m sorry, Kris,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and breaking. “I shouldn’t have… have treated you like that. You’ve been… nothing but good to me, and I just… pushed you away, like… like it didn’t mean anything. I had no right to…”

“Adam.” Kris cut him off firmly, shaking his head. “No, see… you had _every_ right to. If you don’t want to… to hold my hand, or… or for me to touch you… that’s your right. I’m not mad. I have no _right_ to be mad.” When Adam just blinked at him, as if having trouble processing his words, Kris ventured a step closer, though still not daring to actually put his hands on him. “Adam, I’m… I’m not even your boyfriend. I’d like to be, but… but that’s beside the point right now. I have no… _claim_ over you, no right to tell you what to do. If you don’t want to…”

“I… I _do_ want you to.” Adam’s voice was soft, self-conscious, and his eyes were focused on the floor at Kris’s feet.

Hopeful, Kris extended his hand, his fingertips just barely brushing Adam’s, reassured when Adam’s trembling fingers wrapped around his, drawing him a few steps closer as he took a single backward step and sat down on the edge of the bed. Kris sat down slowly beside him, watching Adam closely, trying to figure out what was the right next step to take.

“To hold your hand?” Kris clarified – unnecessarily, he thought.

But Adam shook his head, swallowing hard, struggling over his words. “To… to have a… claim over me.”

Kris frowned, confused, edging nearer and gently, reassuringly stroking Adam’s arm with his free hand, waiting for him to go on. Adam’s voice was hushed, ashamed – as if he was making some dark, awful confession.

“It’d be… so much easier sometimes. I just… I don’t know what to do, Kris. I don’t know… if I can do this on my own, and… and Jordan was…” Adam shuddered, his fingers tightening around Kris’s hand, his words falling over each other in a trembling rush. “…s-scary, and… and he… h-hurt me, but…” He looked up, his eyes glistening with tears. “… but I always knew just what to do, because… because he _told_ me what to do, and… in a weird way… it was easy. The answer to ‘What am I supposed to do?’ was always simple. Just… m-make him happy.” Adam’s tears slipped down his face, and he shook his head, his face lowered in despair as he confessed in a broken whisper, “I don’t know how to be on my own anymore, Kris.”

Kris was silent for a long moment, respecting the weight of Adam’s words, considering them carefully before responding in a tone of soft reassurance. “Adam… you’re _not_ on your own. Okay? I mean… we’re not a couple, not really… not yet, but… but I’m always gonna be here for you, all right? You’re not going into this alone.”

Adam nodded, sniffling as Kris raised a gentle hand to cup his cheek, trailing it upward to brush lightly through Adam’s hair.

“And… if someday we _are_ … together…” Kris continued, his dark eyes solemn as they caught and held Adam’s uncertain gaze. “You have to know that you _always_ have the right to say no to me. _Always_. I don’t care if all I want to do is hold your hand. If you don’t want me to touch you in that moment, then… that’s your right, Adam. It’s _your_ body, and you don’t _ever_ have to let me or anybody else touch you if you don’t want to.”

Adam was quiet, shaking his head slightly as if barely able to comprehend what he was hearing. “If… if you were Jordan,” he ventured after a moment, his voice small and fearful. “And… and I did what I did back at the courthouse…r-refused to let him… touch me…” His eyes were wide and filled with dread as he concluded in a voice that was barely over a whisper. “I’d… I’d be unconscious right now. Or… or worse…”

“I’m _not_ Jordan,” Kris reminded him softly. “And I don’t want a… a mindless slave, or a… prisoner, or someone who does everything I want just because I want it. I want a whole person with his own opinions and desires, who isn’t afraid to argue with me or contradict me.”

Adam flinched slightly, turning his face away, and Kris knew he’d said something wrong, though he couldn’t fathom what it might be – until Adam spoke, his voice low and dejected, and his words broke Kris’s heart.

“Then… you don’t want _me_.”

Kris’s eyes welled with tears, and he shook his head, cupping Adam’s cheek and turning his face toward him, silently insisting that he meet his eyes. “Adam… you’re _exactly_ who I want. That’s still who you are, Adam.”

“I… I don’t know, Kris,” Adam whispered, shaking his head. “I… I don’t think I’m still that guy anymore. I don’t know how to… to be strong like I used to be. I’m just so… so freakin’ _scared_ , and…” His voice trailed off, and he just shook his head, at a loss.

Kris’s expression softened with compassion as his hand shifted around to cup the back of Adam’s neck, gently massaging in an effort to soothe him. “That guy’s still in there, Adam,” he insisted. “He’s just… buried, right now, so deep he can barely breathe, under all that… all that fear and hurt and confusion… all the things Jordan did to you. But… he’s still there.” The flicker of hope mingled with the uncertainty in Adam’s eyes strengthened Kris’s resolve, and he nodded reassuringly as he concluded, “And we’re going to find him again. I promise.”

Adam’s lips began to tremble, his eyes welling with grateful tears that spilled over as he leaned forward, resting his head on Kris’s shoulder. Kris gently pulled him close, holding him and rubbing his back, murmuring words of reassurance in his ear.

A soft knock on the door drew their attention, and Kris looked up, but did not let go of Adam – who did not seem in any way inclined to relinquish the comfort he was receiving.

“Come in,” Kris said quietly, and Leila opened the door.

She held her cell phone in her hand, holding it out to Adam. “It’s your publicist, Adam. I think maybe you should take it.”

Adam put the phone to his ear, not seeming to care that his voice was slightly muffled as he spoke into the phone without bothering to raise his head from Kris’s shoulder.

“Hello?”

Kris could not make out every word, but the phone was close enough to his own ear that he could clearly hear the agitated tone of the publicist’s voice, and could understand enough of her words to get the general idea.

Although the courtroom had been closed to the press, once any criminal court proceedings were over, the details of those proceedings were a matter of public record. It hadn’t taken long for the reporters to find out the answers to their questions that Adam had refused to answer. The charges that had been filed against Jordan were now known to the press, and the first wild stories were beginning to show up on the internet already.

Adam was very quiet, just listening to the publicist’s nearly frantic diatribe, but Kris could feel him shaking slightly against him – knew how badly this was upsetting him. Adam had been so worried about all of this getting out – about strangers finding out about how Jordan had hurt him. Kris knew that there was nothing for Adam to be ashamed of – but that didn’t change the fact that Adam _was_ ashamed. A soft, hitching breath caught in Adam’s throat before he spoke in a timid, uncertain voice.

“What… what should I do?”

“You’re going to need to give a statement, Adam.” Kris clearly heard those words, and his stomach lurched at the thought of Adam, still so fragile and uncertain, being forced to stand in front of a crowd of greedy paparazzi and tell them about what Jordan had done to him. “They’re just making up the details, and you have to tell them _something_ before this gets out of hand…”

“No…” Adam’s voice trembled, rising in pitch slightly, and Kris could hear the impending panic there as Adam sat up a little, shaking his head. “I-I don’t know what to say. I c-can’t… can’t tell them…”

“You _have_ to, Adam.” The publicist’s voice was curt and insistent. “Before this gets out of hand.”

“That’s bullshit,” Kris stated, not bothering to lower his voice for the benefit of the publicist on the phone. “Adam, you don’t have to give a statement just because it’s what everyone expects. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Adam looked between Kris and the phone, clearly torn, having no idea what to do.

“Adam,” Leila sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to take Adam’s hand and look him in the eye. “Do you _want_ to give a statement?”

Adam shook his head, biting his lower lip.

That was all Kris needed to know.

“Give me the phone,” he said softly, and Adam willingly handed it over. “Hi, who’s this?”

The publicist was silent for a moment, clearly taken aback, before replying, “Samantha.” She paused a moment before retorting, “Who’s _this_?”

“This is Kris Allen, and I’m relaying Adam’s wishes to you right now, so listen up.” Kris’s tone was sharper than he would have ordinarily used, but he was more than a little irritated at the demanding tone the woman had used with Adam, showing so little consideration for all he’d been through. “Adam doesn’t want to make a statement at this time – and that’s all you need to tell them. You can give a public statement for Adam, and this is what it should be. Just say that Adam does not wish to comment on his personal affairs at this time, and that he will not be speaking to anyone in the press about this in the near future. Therefore, any stories reported about this should be known to be nothing more than speculation.”

“But… that’s not good…”

“That will _have_ to be good enough,” Kris cut her off, his tone polite but firm. “That’s what Adam wishes to say right now. Okay?”

There was a long silence on the phone before the publicist reluctantly replied. “Okay. Fine.”

He hung up the phone and handed it back to Leila, who put it away slowly, her eyes focused on Kris and Adam with a slight, thoughtful frown.

“Thank you,” Adam whispered, his face buried against Kris’s shoulder again. His voice was halting and a little shy as he added, “For… for taking care of me…”

Kris felt something in him shatter at those words, and he held Adam closer, gently kissing his temple. “Always,” he promised softly, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against the top of Adam’s head.

Neither of them noticed the look of troubled concern on Leila’s face at the exchange, as she carefully rose from the edge of the bed and silently made her way out of the room.


	37. Chapter 37

It was a few minutes later before Kris realized that Leila had left the room, without saying a word to either of them. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he wondered why, and thought back over the conversation he'd had with the girl from Adam's publicist's office.

"Adam."

Kris's voice was low and hushed, reluctant to disturb Adam, who seemed to be half-asleep -- as if he was instinctively shutting out the entire world with the questions and confusing decisions that he found so overwhelming. Adam shook his head, letting out an indistinguishable mumbling sound of protest, refusing to lift his eyes to acknowledge Kris's words.

"Adam, look at me. _Adam_."

Adam finally raised his head, swallowing hard, a wary look of question and uncertainty in his tearful eyes. "What?" he whispered in an unwilling, almost sullen tone.

"What I told that girl on the phone… was that... was that what you would have said? What you wanted me to say? I just... I assumed that it was... the best thing, but... but did you want to say something else? I know you didn't want to give a statement, but..."

"I trust you, Kris," Adam assured him, his voice hoarse and weary as he lowered his head again. "Your… your head is a lot clearer than mine right now, that’s for sure. I don’t even _remember_ what you said, but… but it was the right thing, I'm sure..."

Adam's easy acceptance of whatever decision Kris had made for him -- without really seeming to even be aware of what that decision _was_ \-- was in no way reassuring to Kris, and instead only served to reaffirm his doubts. A troubled sensation settled in the pit of his stomach as he lay there a while longer, gentle fingertips idly stroking through Adam's hair until he eventually drifted off into sleep.

 _I was just trying to protect him, to keep him from having to deal with making a statement to the press -- all their invasive questions, all the cameras and shouting, when he's still so fragile..._

 _But... he's gonna_ stay _fragile if he never has to stand up for himself..._

Kris remembered the conversation he'd had with Leila a few days earlier, and the concerns she had voiced then echoed through his mind.

 _The last thing Adam needs is to transfer his dependency on Jordan onto me. He needs to learn that he doesn't need someone else making his decisions for him -- that he's capable and strong enough to make his decisions for himself._

 _But... what if he makes those decisions... and they're the_ wrong _ones?_

 _What if he decides to go back to Jordan again?_

Kris stared down at Adam's still, sleeping form, as peaceful as he ever got these days, and lovingly brushed the soft, dark hair back from Adam’s closed eyes. Amidst his confusion, one undeniable fact filled his mind – the heaviness of knowing that he just didn't _know_ the answers.

 _We need help, Adam. Not just you, but me… your mom… all of us. We can't get through this on our own._

 _How can I do what's best for you -- when I don't have the first freakin' clue what that is?_

*************************************

"... caught up with the defendant in the Adam Lambert case – the man accused of domestic battery and felony coercion against the controversial superstar – Mr. Jordan Brenner, outside the home he has recently shared with Mr. Lambert in South Hollywood, and he had this to say to our reporters..."

As Jordan's face appeared on the television screen, Kris felt Adam's body jerk slightly under the arm he had wrapped around Adam's shoulders, and he instinctively, protectively tightened his hold. Adam was unconsciously biting his lower lip, his eyes a little wider than normal, his face pale and taut with fear he was trying and failing to conceal – but he did not turn his gaze from the screen as Jordan addressed the reporter holding a microphone in his face with an easy, reassuring smile.

"I'm innocent of all charges," he insisted with confidence, following it up with a sad, regretful shake of his head. "Adam and I… we’ve had our difficulties in the past, but I would never hurt him. I love him. I don't know why he's saying these things, bringing these charges against me, but I trust that in the end the truth will come out, and my name will be cleared."

"Liar," Leila murmured from her seat at Adam's other side, reaching out across the seat to grasp her son's hand. "The truth will come out, all right -- but it'll end with him in prison where he belongs!"

"Mr. Lambert has declined to give any interviews at this time," the unseen voice on the television continued as the picture changed to a shot, several months old, of a smiling, friendly Adam posing for pictures on a red carpet, waving to his fans, "stating that he does not wish to share the unpleasant details of his personal life with the press. In the mean time, this leaves room for varied speculation by the general public..."

A shot appeared on the screen of a young woman with chocolate skin and curly dark hair, smiling and casting nervous glances toward the camera as she spoke into the microphone in front of her.

"I don't know, I... I guess it doesn't make sense to me. Why would he stay? He's a big guy, right? Always seems... really confident and stuff. So... why would he let some other guy hit him if he didn't have to? I think it's a scam, or... a publicity stunt, maybe. Yeah, it's probably a publicity stunt."

An instant later the shot changed to one of a man in a suit, holding a cup of coffee, who seemed far more at ease in front of the camera than the girl before him.

"It's gotta be true. I mean, Lambert filed the charges, right? And who's gonna _make up_ something so humiliating about _himself_?"

Adam finally turned his head away from the screen, and Kris glanced at him with concern to see that his face was flushed and his eyes were closed. His jaw worked with repressed emotion, and he shook his head slowly as if in denial of the careless cruelty he’d just heard.

"It's all right, baby," Leila murmured, squeezing his hand gently. "Adam... they don't have a clue about any of this..."

"Because I haven't _said_ anything."

Kris caught Leila's gaze over Adam's head for a moment, quickly averting his eyes guiltily at the knowing arch of her brow. His voice was soft and cautious as he gently shook his arm around Adam's shoulders, trying to get his attention.

"Adam..." He waited until Adam was looking at him to continue. "... do you want to change your statement? If you think it's time to give the press something to work with -- something to back you up -- then you can do that..."

"You can do whatever you think is right, Adam," Leila firmly interjected. "It's _your decision_ , sweetheart."

"No." There was defeat in Adam's voice, and he shook his head slowly. "No... this is right. What am I supposed to tell them? About all the times Jordan... beat me, and choked me, and threatened to kill me? Give them all the gruesome details – more fuel for their sensationalism? The court records will give them enough of that – especially once the trial starts. No, the only statement I need to make is the one Kris already made for me -- that my personal life is none of their business. I don't want anyone else knowing the details." He paused, glancing uncertainly between Kris and Leila before nodding. When he spoke again, his voice was shaky and apologetic. "Kris was right. It's best not to say anything else. I... I'm sorry, I just... it's really freaking me out to hear them... talking about it, and... and Jordan..."

"I know." Kris leaned in close, bowing his head to press a gentle kiss against Adam's shoulder. "I know, Adam. It's... it’s a lot to… it’s just a _lot_ , and there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’d be more worried if you weren’t a little freaked out. But, it's gonna be okay. If we can just make it through these next few weeks..."

The slight shudder that passed through Adam's body at those words was clearly felt by Kris, and he held him tighter, his heart aching with the fear that he knew Adam felt, wanting to make him feel safe and protected -- but well aware that there was little he could do or say to accomplish that, with Jordan free, and nothing more than a useless piece of paper standing between him and Adam.

"I'm, uh... I'm not feeling too well." Adam rose abruptly from the sofa, heading toward the stairs. "I'm gonna lie down."

Kris watched him go with troubled eyes for a moment before turning his gaze toward Leila, who was watching him too closely, her gaze piercing and warning. He looked away, feeling guilty and "caught" by her knowing gaze.

" _What_?” he muttered, defensive. “I told him he had a choice. I made sure to ask him what he wanted to do…”

"I know," she acknowledged softly. "I know you did, Kris, but... did you see what he just did there? Did you catch how he seemed to feel like he needed to _apologize_ for… for _questioning_ your decision?"

“I know,” Kris admitted with a heavy sigh. “I heard that. But… don’t you think that a little bit of that is normal? I mean… not _normal_ ,” He amended with a grimace. “But… what he’s used to? Jordan didn’t leave him any room to make his own decisions, and I think he’s just so used to that, that he’s expecting it from me, now, too.” He paused, his dark eyes solemn and troubled as they met hers again. “I’m trying, Leila. I really am. I just… I don’t know the right way to… to do _any_ of this…”

“I know.” Leila’s tone was gentler, and she shook her head as well, a rueful expression on her face, her lips pursed with worry. "I know you’re doing your best, Kris, and… and he’s not making it easy. Maybe… maybe there isn't really a _right_ way to handle this."

"If there is," Kris pointed out in a low, dark voice, "we don't know what it is." He looked up to meet her eyes again. "We need help. We need to get Adam to... to talk to someone. And... _we_ should probably talk to someone, too."

Leila's eyes widened with understanding, and she nodded. "A counselor. Of course.” She let out a quiet, rueful laugh before adding, “That’s the best idea you’ve had yet, Kris Allen.” Her smile faded into a pensive expression as she glanced toward the stairs. “I just... I don't know if Adam would be willing to tell a _stranger_ these things that he's barely worked up the nerve to tell _us_..."

"If he can’t work up the nerve, then Jordan’s going to go free,” Kris pointed out. “He's going to be talking about it in court soon enough, in front of a whole lot of strangers. Maybe... talking to a therapist would help – not just help him to heal, but help him to prepare for that. It's got to be easier to talk to someone you know is concerned about your well-being, and trying to help, in a safe, private setting… than it would be to testify in front of a judge and jury and a room full of people -- including Jordan."

"You're right. And… we’re not making any progress on our own. He won’t really talk about what happened… what he’s feeling… and it seems like all he does is sleep." A slow, hopeful smile spread across Leila's face. "I have a friend who's a psychologist... not that _she_ should see us, because it'd have to be a... a conflict of interest, or something. But, I'm sure she could refer us to someone we can trust. Someone who can help Adam deal with what he's feeling, and... and help us to know how to help him."

"Good," Kris agreed. "Sounds like a plan. Go ahead and make the call. I’m gonna go upstairs and talk to Adam.


	38. Chapter 38

_The flashing lights of the dozens of cameras surrounding him, the muted roar of the dozens of voices accompanying them, had a dizzying effect on Adam as he made his way down the red carpet, waving and smiling to the fans and paparazzi alike – ever aware of the familiar warning weight of Jordan’s possessive hand at the hollow of his back._

 _Adam’s smile was brilliant – but utterly false. He was trembling all over, struggling to keep down the few bites he’d eaten at the charity dinner they were leaving._

 _He knew that he’d blown it – and the rest of the night was going to be hell._

 _Jordan opened the rear passenger side door of their car for him as usual, and Adam gave one last farewell to the gathered crowd before slipping into the seat. As soon as Jordan closed the door behind him, Adam’s smile fell away, and he found himself gasping for breath, struggling to fight off the panic that rose up within him._

He’s going to kill me. Oh, God, he’s going to _kill_ me.

 _Adam noticed that Jordan was taking a little longer than usual to get in on his own side of the car, and glanced anxiously through the heavily tinted rear window. All of the car’s windows were tinted so that they could still see out, but no one could see anything inside – which had proven very convenient for Jordan on any number of occasions._

 _Adam’s heart raced with fear, his brow breaking out in a cold sweat, as he saw Jordan standing at the rear of the car, smiling and exchanging pleasantries with an exuberant fan who had somehow managed to make it past the barrier. Jordan was polite, but Adam could see the irritation and impatience in his eyes as he shook his head apologetically – no doubt in response to a request for a few minutes of Adam’s time._

No… he wants me all to himself for the rest of the night…

Oh, God… oh, God… this may be the _last_ night… please… please, no…

 _A wild thought passed through Adam’s mind, and his heart leapt up into his throat at the thought of actually going through with it._

There’s still time. It’ll take him at least a few seconds to get the door open, and… and I could go _anywhere_ … I could go home… not to our house, but… _home_ … and he won’t have time to stop me…

 _“Julie,” he whispered, leaning forward in his seat, his hand on the ridge of the privacy window, currently all the way down, as he addressed their usually silent driver. “Julie, please… please just go.”_

 _“I have to wait for Mr. Brenner, sir, I’m sorry.”_

 _“No, no you don’t,” Adam insisted, his voice trembling as he glanced over his shoulder to see that Jordan was still talking to the fan. “Please, just go. It’s what I want… I_ need _you to just… just_ drive _,_ please _… before he gets into the car…”_

 _He felt a rush of shame at the sheer, raw desperation in his own words, realized that he was all but begging for mercy – and Julie had heard and seen enough of what often took place behind the seclusion of those tinted windows to_ know _that. But she remained unmoved, not even looking at him in the rearview mirror._

 _“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t do that.”_

 _“Please, whatever he’s paying you, I’ll pay you double, please!_ Please _! Just go, before it’s too late,_ go _!”_

 _It was already too late._

 _Jordan opened the door just in time to catch the last of Adam’s words, and pulled the door firmly shut behind him, while Julie put up the privacy window without being asked. Without hesitation, Jordan grasped Adam’s hair and slammed his face brutally into the thick glass, dizzying him before yanking him back again and leaning in close to his face. Adam held up his trembling hands in front of him in a pleading gesture, shaking his head; he could feel blood running down his chin already from his newly split lip. Jordan just grabbed his wrists and forced his hands down, shaking him painfully by the fist clenched in his hair. His voice was a low, menacing hiss in Adam’s ear that sent a sick shiver of dread down his spine._

 _“Stupid. Little._ Whore _.”_

 _“I’m sorry,” Adam whispered, frantic. “Please don’t, I’m sorry.”_

 _“Don’t you get it by now, Adam?” Jordan sneered. “_ No one _will help you. I_ own _you… and I own everyone_ around _you.” He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “So all you accomplish by running your mouth about us to anyone who’ll listen is to thoroughly_ piss me off _!”_

 _The last few words were an abrupt roar of rage as Jordan released Adam’s wrists to grab his throat and slam his head into the side window. Adam’s fingers trembled as he instinctively struggled to free his throat from Jordan’s choking grip – but Jordan just slammed him into the window again, and his hands fell limp to his sides at the dizzying force of the blow._

 _By the time they reached the house, the windows and the dark leather of the backseat were smeared with blood and make-up from Adam’s split lip and from his cheek where Jordan had reopened a cut Adam had barely managed to cover for his appearance that night. Adam was dizzy and weak from the blows he’d taken to the head, and the lack of oxygen from Jordan’s ruthlessly choking him every time he tried to speak to defend himself – or even to plead for forgiveness._

 _There was to be no mercy, from any source, for Adam tonight._

 _Jordan tapped on the privacy glass, and Julie put the window down, turning to face her_ real _employer – not even glancing at the disheveled, shaken young man beside him – the young man that no longer even slightly resembled the confident, sparkling celebrity he’d appeared to be to his adoring public that night. She ignored the fact that he was desperately trying to make eye contact with her, silently pleading for rescue – because he knew that Jordan was not through with him yet._

 _“Can you wipe things down back here before you leave for the night?” Jordan asked her, with a chillingly casual air. “It’s a bit of a mess.”_

 _“Of course, sir.”_

 _Julie didn’t smile, but neither did she show any disapproval – or react in any way at all – as Jordan got out of the car, then jerked Adam out behind him by a cruel grip on his hair. Adam was shaking as Jordan dragged him, stumbling, up the walkway and into the house – overwhelmed with dread of what was to come once those doors closed behind them and left them in total privacy._

 _At this rate, he wasn’t sure he’d survive the night._

*****************************************

Kris knocked on the door before entering, though he didn’t wait for an answer. He just wanted Adam to know he was coming so he didn’t accidentally scare him to death. Adam was lying on the bed, his back turned to Kris, and did not acknowledge his entrance in any way. Kris quietly made his way to the bed and sat down on the edge, reaching out a cautious hand to rest on Adam’s side – encouraged when he did not pull away.

“Mind a little company?” he asked softly.

Adam shook his head, but didn’t speak.

Kris wished that he could know what he was thinking, that he could find the right words to comfort him – but he had no idea what exactly was the issue at the moment.

There were just so many to choose from.

 _Adam’s head must be a really confusing, scary place to be right now…_

Kris slowly lifted his legs up onto the bed, turning onto his side and stretching out behind Adam. He cautiously rested an arm lightly across Adam’s waist, relieved when Adam leaned back against him, clearly grateful for the comforting contact. Kris’s fingers stroked lightly back and forth, toying with the hem of Adam’s t-shirt, as he rested his chin on Adam’s shoulder and settled in close to him.

“You okay?” he ventured at last. “Wanna talk about it?”

Adam was quiet for a long moment, and Kris wasn’t sure he was going to respond at all. When at last he did, his voice was hoarse and trembling, barely over a whisper. “I just… seeing Jordan, like that… it… it’s really screwing with my head, Kris. I don’t…. I don’t know…”

“Shhh, it’s okay…” Kris soothed him, running his hand gently up and down Adam’s side when he heard his breath hitch, his voice rising in speed and pitch with his impending panic. “It’s okay… he can’t hurt you here, Adam. You’re safe.”

“But… for how long?” Adam shook his head, sniffling, and Kris could hear the tears in his despairing voice. “He sounded so… so sure that they’re not going to convict him… and maybe he’s right.”

“No, Adam…”

Kris shook his head, automatically rushing to reassure him, but Adam went on as if he hadn’t spoken.

“I could never get away before. No matter what I tried… and… and _I tried_ , Kris…” Adam’s voice was halting, on the verge of a sob, as he shifted his head against the pillow, lowering it into his hand, his shoulders trembling. “I tried… s-so many times, and… and _every time_ … he just… it was just… _worse_. Every time. How is this time any different?”

“It’s different…” Kris hesitated, raising his free hand to stroke through Adam’s hair in what seemed to be a vain attempt at comfort. “It’s different, because… this time… you’re not keeping the secret anymore, Adam. There are… people on your side. People… working _for_ you to make sure that he _doesn’t_ win… not this time.”

“But… he’s got people on his side, too.” The stark whisper sent a shiver of apprehension down Kris’s spine, and he unconsciously held Adam a little closer. “I _know_ he does. Who knows _how_ many? You think I never asked for help? You think I never… _begged_ someone to… to just…”

Adam momentarily broke down, and Kris struggled to make sense of his words, the pieces slowly falling into place in his mind.

“Your… your staff? At your house? They… they knew…”

Of course _they knew. Why didn’t I think of that? That kind of abuse going on, every day, under the same roof… they_ had _to know it was happening, but… nobody said anything._

 _Why didn’t anyone_ say _anything?_

“When we… m-moved in together, he… he fired the people I had working for me then. Not… all at once, but… he found reasons. My h-housekeeper was bringing her boyfriends over to impress them; my driver was stealing from me. He… he came up with something to g-get rid of them all, and… and he hired their replacements.”

“And he chose people that would keep their mouths shut about whatever he did… as long as he was paying them enough.” Kris couldn’t keep the disgust from his voice, at the thought of the kind of people that could _know_ that someone was being brutalized so badly, on a daily basis, and not do anything to help them.

Adam nodded slowly in confirmation. “He… can be very convincing, when he wants to be.”

“Still, I can’t believe…” Kris shook his head, aghast. “You asked them to help you, and… and they just… how could anyone be so _cold_?”

Adam was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his words were slow and weighted with guilt. “I told the police that _my own mother_ was not welcome on my property.”

“No one got _hurt,_ though…” Kris objected. “It wasn’t the same…”

“If they’d have arrested her, I’d have stuck to the story,” Adam insisted, an unsettling calm in his voice. “I would have let them take my mom away in _handcuffs_ … for trying to _protect_ me.”

Kris frowned. “So, you’re saying… you think he’s threatening them, somehow?”

“I’m saying that Jordan gets what he wants,” Adam explained with a quiet, weary sigh. “No matter how he has to do it. If he has to pay them, threaten them, lie to them… whatever. He… doesn’t lose, Kris.” He was quiet a moment before letting out a soft, despairing sob. “He doesn’t _lose_ …”

“He’s going to this time,” Kris insisted firmly. “I promise, Adam. He’s not going to win this one.”

“People are going to believe him. They’re _already_ believing him. And why shouldn’t they? They don’t… don’t _know_ him.” The defeat in Adam’s voice broke Kris’s heart. “That girl on the news – she’s asking what everybody else is gonna be asking. Why didn’t I just _leave_?”

“You couldn’t, Adam. You didn’t have a choice,” Kris reminded him. “You just told me that yourself. This is _not_ your fault, okay? He’s got you convinced that… what he did to you… that you brought it on yourself. But you didn’t. It _wasn’t your fault_.”

“It… _feels_ like it was,” Adam confessed in a whisper. “Why didn’t I just… go up to… to _any one_ of the _hundreds_ of people at any of the _hundreds_ of events I’ve attended since I’ve been with Jordan? He couldn’t have done anything – not with all those people. I could have just… just _walked away_ …” Adam covered his face with his hands, letting out a shaky breath. “I just… I’m so confused, Kris…”

“He had you convinced that you couldn’t,” Kris repeated. “He’s messed with your mind, and… and you’ve… _learned_ some… some unhealthy ways of thinking, and dealing with things, and… you need to learn new ones…”

Adam fell silent, and Kris fought back the sense of foreboding he felt, pushing forward with the subject he’d come here to talk about, now that he’d begun to bring it up.

“Adam, I think… I think maybe you should… talk to someone…”

“No.” Adam’s tone was sharp, and far more certain than anything else he’d said thus far. “I don’t want to _talk_ to anyone.”

“Look, I… I’m glad you’re talking to me, but… but I don’t know how to help you,” Kris admitted, though it almost physically hurt to say it. “I can tell you Jordan was a lying, manipulative, abusive sack of shit who wasn’t worth the _two seconds_ of your time it took to meet him… I can tell you that you’re so much better than he made you feel… I can tell you that you’re gonna be safe here, and no one’s ever gonna hurt you again…”

He let out a soft sigh, pressing a tender kiss to Adam’s shoulder before resting his face against it, clinging to Adam as he continued in a helpless whisper.

“… but… I can’t tell you how to… how to let any of that actually _help_ you. I can’t… can’t help you _believe_ it.”

“No one can.” Adam’s voice took on a hard, stubborn note. “I’ve already told too many people. The whole world knows the stuff I never wanted anyone to know – and you and Mom knowing the details is already more than I can deal with. I can’t… can’t tell a freakin’ _stranger_ … all the… the ugly details of every little sick, twisted thing he ever did to me.” Adam’s voice was hushed, horrified at the very thought. “I _can’t_ , Kris. Please, I _can’t_.”

The subtle shift in Adam’s tone did not escape Kris’s notice, nor did the use of the word “please”.

 _He doesn’t want to talk to anyone… like_ really _doesn’t… but… if he feels like I’m demanding it of him, he will. He_ needs _to talk to someone about all of this, but… he also needs to know that the decision is_ his _. If I push him to do this, knowing that he’s adamantly against it… isn’t that the_ opposite _of what I’m trying to do for him?_

“Please, Kris,” Adam repeated, his voice breaking slightly over the words. He had clearly misinterpreted Kris’s silence for disapproval. “Please, I’ll… I’ll be fine. I don’t want to talk to anyone…”

“Okay, then.” Kris shrugged slightly. “It’s your choice, Adam, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can tell you that… I really think you _should_ , but… it’s up to you. And… maybe you’re just not ready yet, you know? If you change your mind later, that’s cool, too, just… it’s your decision.”

Adam was silent, stunned by Kris’s reaction. Finally, he replied in a hesitant, uncertain tone. “Okay, then. I… I don’t want to.”

“Okay,” Kris repeated firmly, doing his best to reassure Adam that it really was all right. “Whatever you decide to do… I support you, Adam.”


	39. Chapter 39

“I just don’t know what to do.” Leila paced anxiously across the living room floor before sinking down onto the sofa, one hand pressed against her forehead as she leaned forward, shaking her head with disappointment. “He needs help, Kris. He needs more help than we can give him.”

“He does, I know,” Kris conceded. “But… this is a _good_ thing…”

His voice trailed off as he sat down on the sofa next to Leila, and she raised her head to give him an incredulous look.

“How is this a _good_ thing?” she demanded, not waiting for a response before going on. “I thought if _anyone_ could convince him to get therapy, it’d be you.”

“I… I could have, but…” Kris’s words broke off at the stunned, almost accusing look Leila gave him, and he swallowed hard before explaining. “I could have pushed him – could have _forced_ him to agree – and he would have. You’ve noticed yourself how much he’s letting me take charge lately, and that’s _not_ a good thing. So… I could have pressured him into it, yeah, but… isn’t that exactly the _opposite_ of what we’re trying to do? He said he didn’t want to – he practically _begged_ me not to push it, because… because he doesn’t really know how to refuse anymore…”

“Oh, God,” Leila groaned, rubbing her eyes wearily.

“Yeah.” Kris’s tone was grim. “I-I couldn’t. I told him it was his decision, and… he said he didn’t want to do it, so…”

“So that’s it.” Leila sighed, but finally nodded in resigned agreement. “You’re right. We have to respect his decision – even if it’s the wrong one.”

“At least he made one,” Kris pointed out with cautious optimism. “That’s something, isn’t it? That he finally took a stand for something he wants? Or _doesn’t_ want, in this case. And… maybe he’ll change his mind… _on his own_ … and get help later on.”

“And in the mean time, _we_ can get some help,” Leila suggested. “If Adam won’t get therapy, then maybe we can at least get someone to help us know how to help him.”

Kris nodded. “That’s a good idea. Call that number your friend gave you, and set us up an appointment.” He paused as he rose to his feet, waiting until Leila looked up at him to conclude. “We have to do _something_ – because the one thing I know is… we can’t keep going on like _this_.”

But they had to – for a few more days, at least.

The psychologist Leila’s friend had recommended was out of the country on vacation for the next week. Leila and Kris both agreed that it would be best to wait and talk to someone they knew they could trust, rather than to rush things and seek out a stranger before the recommended therapist could return.

Adam’s manager had cleared his schedule for the next week or so, in order to protect his privacy and keep him from having to deal with the constant stream of media speculation as to his every move. But even with the unusual amount of free time, Adam chose to stay home most of the time, rather than to face the paparazzi that had been camped outside Kris’s house since it had become known that Adam was staying there.

Kris, on the other hand, had no choice but to deal with it as best he could.

He had just started work on his next album when Adam had come back into his life. Despite the stressful, intense situation in which he had found himself, he couldn’t put off working on the album any longer. Each day he had to face a living reminder of Adam’s suffering and the uncertainty of his future, in the form of the reporters and photographers that lurked just outside the gates of his property, greedy for any hint of information he might accidentally let slip in front of them.

Each day, Kris maintained an air of calm silence until he had safely reached the recording studio – and then, he poured every ounce of his anger and fear and frustration into the new songs he’d written. The producers marveled at how quickly the album seemed to be coming together. If they had any inkling of the emotional anguish that was fueling Kris’s impassioned vocals, they did not mention it – and at the end of each day when Kris went home, he felt a little lighter, a little more at peace.

Until he reached his front gate.

His security team kept the paparazzi from actually coming onto his property, but they still lingered around the perimeter of Kris’s home – as close as they could legally get without _technically_ trespassing. The sense of violation Kris still felt, however, made that technicality seem meaningless.

 _At least there’s one good thing about it,_ Kris reminded himself with a sigh as he unlocked his front door and headed inside. _With all these people around, just watching and waiting for something out of the ordinary to happen – there’s no way Jordan can get anywhere near Adam without getting caught._

Much to Kris’s surprise – and relief – Jordan had not tried anything since the restraining order had been issued. It was a cautious relief, of course – because Kris well knew that someone as dangerously obsessed as Jordan was not going to simply give up because of a piece of paper ordering him to stay away from someone he viewed as his own personal property. In fact, from what Adam had told him about Jordan, Kris was pretty sure that Jordan would just view the order of protection as a challenge, and become more determined than ever to get Adam back.

There had been a couple of calls that read “Blocked Caller” on Kris’s caller ID, and Kris was certain those calls were from Jordan – but aside from that, there had been no threats, no attacks of any kind. Kris found himself tempted to let his guard down a little and relax – but a part of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When he walked through the living room doorway and into his kitchen – it did.

Adam was huddled on the floor, his back against the cabinet doors, his knees drawn up in front of him. He didn’t notice Kris come in; his stricken gaze was focused on the crumpled piece of paper he held in his trembling hand. He was shaking so hard that the paper rustled audibly as Kris cautiously approached, crouching down beside Adam, trying to get his attention before he spoke, so as not to startle him.

When he reached Adam and crouched down in front of him, Kris could see a torn envelope on the floor beside Adam, and he picked it up, quickly scanning it for any clue as to what had shaken Adam so badly. There was no return address on the envelope – only Adam’s name and Kris’s address. The postmark was from a town several hours away – but that meant nothing, Kris knew. Anyone could mail anything from anywhere, and the location of this particular postmark probably was in no way actually related to the person who had mailed – whatever it was that Adam was reading.

It didn’t matter. Kris was pretty sure he already knew.

“Adam.” Kris’s voice was low and coaxing. “Adam… what is it? Can I see?”

Adam offered no resistance as Kris took the paper from his hand and began to read it. He just stared blankly at the wall across the room, shaking violently as he waited for Kris’s reaction to what he was reading.

 _“I’m so glad that you finally dumped your boyfriend. He was never good enough for you – never knew what you really needed – but I do, and now we can be together. He can’t keep us apart if he can’t come near you – and he can’t, not anymore. He can’t – but I can. Soon, Adam. Soon, I’ll make my move, and we’ll meet face to face for the first time. I’ve arranged for us to have some time alone, so that we can get to know each other better – and I can’t wait._

 _Oh, the things I’m going to do to you…”_

Kris read only a few lines farther before he had to throw the letter down, fighting back the urge to vomit at the terrifyingly twisted, explicit descriptions of what the writer of the letter wanted to do to Adam. He looked down at Adam, who was resting his head in his folded arms across his knees, his shoulders trembling as he visibly fought to control his panic. Kris slowly sat down beside him, draping one arm across Adam’s shoulders and pulling him close.

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “It’s just words. Just a letter, he can’t touch you…”

“If… if I was still with Jordan,” Adam replied, raising his head to reveal his tear-streaked face, pale with terror. “Then… then he couldn’t, but… but…”

“He still can’t.” Kris frowned, confused by Adam’s words. “I have excellent security, Adam, no one can get in here…”

“They might be good,” Adam conceded, his voice low and dark with dread. “But they’re not as good as Jordan. He… he kept him from getting to me, but… but now that he’s gone…”

The lines that creased Kris’s brow deepened, and he shook his head slightly. “Wait… _what_?”

“The _stalker_ ,” Adam replied, impatience mingled with despair in his voice. “The one thing I knew with Jordan was that he could never get to me, but… but now… if he’s already figured out a way…”

“Adam… Adam, listen to me.” Kris’s voice was soft but stern as he reached out a hand to turn Adam’s face toward him, meeting his gaze with solemn eyes, making sure Adam was focused before he continued. “Adam… _Jordan_ wrote that letter. Okay? Jordan _is_ your stalker.”

Adam just stared blankly for a moment, then shook his head, his voice raised and trembling when at last he found it. “No. No, that’s not… he couldn’t be…”

“He _is_ , Adam.”

“No, he… he _found_ the letters, but… but he didn’t…” Adam hesitated a moment, his eyes widening as he remembered, and looked up at Kris again, almost defiant. “He couldn’t have, because he took the letters to the police. He insisted that we take them there, and there’s an open investigation and everything. There’s no way he could have gotten away with something like that with the police investigating…”

“Let’s call them.”

Kris’s soft, measured words caught Adam off guard, and his rambling, anxious words broke off abruptly. “What?”

“Let’s call the police and report _this_ letter, okay? If they’re already investigating your stalker, then… then they should know about this. Right?”

Adam hesitated a moment before nodding. “Yeah. That’s… that’s a good idea…”

A heavy feeling of sorrow filled Kris’s chest, tightening with a dull ache as he handed Adam his phone, and Adam began to dial the number – because he already knew what they would find out. Kris rested a gentle hand on Adam’s knee as Adam talked to the police dispatcher, asking to speak with the detective in charge of his case; he had a feeling that whether he knew it or not, Adam was going to need some support very soon.

“No, not that case,” Adam was saying, and Kris drew his attention back to the side of the conversation he could hear. “There’s another one, a stalking case. There should be several letters on file as evidence… okay, thanks.” Adam covered the mouthpiece for a moment as he met Kris’s eyes and mouthed, “She’s checking.”

Kris just nodded, biting his lower lip.

After a moment, Kris heard a muffled woman’s voice over the phone again, and Adam frowned.

“No, that’s not… that’s not possible. I _know_ there’s an open case… but, there’ve been at least a dozen letters in the last year and a half… no, I… okay… I just… thank you. Thank you for… for checking…”

Adam disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Kris, barely comprehending as he stared at his friend. His voice was flat and distant as he relayed the police dispatcher’s message.

“There… there is no open case on my stalker. The only open case involving me is the one with Jordan. They… they never had any letters turned in to them.” Adam shook his head, looking bewildered and hurt, despite everything Jordan had done to him, by what had to feel like a betrayal of monumental proportion. “He told me the police were investigating. He said he gave them the letters. Why would he lie about that?”

Kris hesitated, edging nearer to Adam and reaching out a cautious, steadying hand to gently grip his arm. “Adam… he lied about it because _he_ wrote the letters…”

Adam shook his head in confusion. “But why would he do that? Why would he make something like that up?”

Kris shook his head too, at a loss for a way to explain the kind of cruelty that he could hardly fathom. “To… to keep you under his control? To make you… think you needed him, when you didn’t? It was… just another way of keeping you… scared, and… and dependent on him.”

Adam’s face was pale, stricken, as the painful truth slowly sank in. “I believed him. I… I _trusted_ him.” Adam lowered his face into his hands, drawing in a deep, shaky breath, then letting it out in a self-disgusted whisper. “God, I’m so _stupid_!”

“No,” Kris insisted, scooting closer and wrapping his arm around Adam’s shoulders. “No, Adam, you’re not. Of course you trusted him. He was your boyfriend. He… you… you loved him.” Kris immediately cringed, adding softly, uncertainly, “Right?”

Adam nodded. “I loved him,” he confirmed in a hoarse whisper. “I… I think maybe I… maybe I still do, and… and he almost _killed_ me, Kris!” Adam looked up, tears streaking his face. “He hit me, and threatened me, and… and _lied_ to me, and I… I just… just kept on loving him. Kept on… _taking_ it like the stupid little _bitch_ he always said I am!” Before Kris could point out the obvious flaws in Adam’s assessment of the situation, Adam looked away again, sniffling and wiping the back of his hand across his eyes. “I’m just so fucked up, Kris. I’m so… so confused, I don’t even know… don’t even know _what_ to believe anymore.”

Kris reached out to catch Adam’s hand in a firm but gentle grip, lowering it from his face and holding it in his own. “You can believe _me_ ,” he whispered, dark eyes intent on Adam’s uncertain, tearful gaze. “He lied to you. He made you think things that aren’t true. You trusted him, and he betrayed you.” Kris paused, looking away for a moment before meeting Adam’s eyes again. “I’m not perfect. I’ll make mistakes, but… but I’ll _never_ lie to you.” Kris was quiet for a moment, willing Adam to accept his words. “I’ll always be honest with you, no matter what – even if I think it’s… not what you want to hear.”

“I know,” Adam whispered, nodding. “I know…”

“And… I’m telling you, _honestly_ , Adam… you _need help_ to deal with all of this.”

Adam shook his head, already rejecting the idea, and Kris held up his free hand in a halting gesture.

“I’m not asking you to agree to anything,” he clarified softly. “I just… I want you to think about it. Okay? Just… consider it.”

Adam hesitated a moment before finally nodding. “Okay. I… I can’t… I can’t talk to anyone about this, Kris. I really can’t, but… but I don’t know what else to do…”

“I know,” Kris murmured, wrapping his arms around Adam and pulling him close, cradling Adam’s face against his shoulder. “I know… but no matter what… no matter how confusing and scary and crazy everything gets… I’m here for you, Adam. I promise. And everything’s going to be all right…”


	40. Chapter 40

Adam had been through a lot of hard times in the course of his twenty-eight years. He’d gone through the confusion and secret pain of his teenage years as a closeted homosexual. He’d gone through the stress and fear and uncertainty of coming out – admittedly made easier by the love and acceptance of his family – and then gone through it again when his sexuality was broadcast to the entire world after Idol.

In his personal life, he’d been hurt, betrayed, cheated on, lied to, taken advantage of, and gone through all the other emotional hardships that came with the confusing and often agonizing search for love that never quite seemed to find him. He’d had his heart shattered until he hurt so badly that he thought he wanted to die, that he thought he’d never be whole again.

But in all his life, all that he’d been through… Adam had never before felt so completely and utterly _lost_.

His mother and Kris were trying to help, he knew. They wanted nothing more than for him to be safe and happy and whole – to be the person he once was again. The problem was, Adam wasn’t sure that person existed anymore – and if that was the case, he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to go from here.

And it didn’t help that they worried about him all the time. Their worry was an almost physical presence – a fourth person in the room with them at all times. If Adam lost himself in his own troubled thoughts, withdrawing and trying to work out what he was feeling in his own mind – they worried. If he faked a smile and tried to be the old him, the person they wanted hi m to be – well, they just worried _more_.

 _If I could just get a little time to myself… time to_ think…

 _… I’d panic in the first five minutes, and go running back to Jordan, or lose it completely and end up in a psych ward somewhere after what would probably be, knowing_ my _luck, a very public, humiliating breakdown…_

Besides, in the rare moments Adam had to himself these days, his mind was his own worst enemy. His worst fears wreaked havoc with his thoughts and emotions, coming up with horrific scenarios of what Jordan would do to him if he managed to get him alone – and how easily Jordan could manage that, if he really tried. He imagined what his friends probably thought of him now – the friends he hadn’t ventured to contact since leaving Jordan, but still thought about every day. He thought about all he had lost, and all the things he’d never be able to get back again.

These days, Adam had discovered… thinking just _hurt_ too damn much.

So he found himself more and more trying to drown out the tumult of his own confusion with mindless distractions – movies, music, idiotic television programs that kept him from being able to focus on the troubled thoughts ever in the back of his mind. Doing that, however, just made him feel like the lazy, worthless wreck Jordan had often accused him of being – but it was the only way he could think to keep from losing his mind during the long days when Leila was at her job two hours away, and Kris was in the studio working on his new album.

 _If I told them I didn’t want to be alone, they’d stay._

He knew they would do whatever they could to make sure that he had whatever he needed. The problem was, he didn’t have the first clue what that was.

 _I_ don’t _want to be alone – but, I can’t stand them smothering me every moment that they’re here – hovering as if there’s some magic request I can make that they can fill and make this all better again. They want to_ do _something to help, I know – but there’s nothing they_ can _do._

But he couldn’t find the words to explain that to them – no more than he could explain to Kris how irritating he found his constant insistence on giving Adam warning before every casual touch, approaching him from the front and asking for permission with his eyes, his expression, and sometimes his words, before reaching out to place an affectionate hand on his shoulder or his knee.

It drove Adam crazy with resentment and frustration and humiliation to think that Kris thought him so weak and fragile – and yet, in the rare instances when Kris forgot and touched him innocently, unexpectedly, Adam had to fight back the flight impulse – the flinch, the defensively raised arm, the pleading whisper that rose so swiftly to his lips, out of sheer habit.

He felt constantly on edge, constantly on the verge of breaking down in tears, or falling into a full-fledged panic attack. His every emotion was so close to the surface every moment, that the only thing he could do to keep from falling apart was to focus on something else and not allow himself to think about his situation, and all the confusing, conflicting things he was feeling – and yet, that was all Kris and his mother seemed to want him to talk about.

 _And I_ want _to talk about it – to get it out – but I_ don’t _. I don’t want them to stay with me, but I don’t want them to go. I don’t want him to treat me like I’m made of glass… I_ need _the affection he gives me, need the simple comfort of physical contact that doesn’t hurt… yet I shatter every time he touches me…_

 _They want to know how to help me, and I want to tell them – but how can I when_ I _don’t even know?_

Sleep was the only escape Adam could find from his confusion, and he found himself drifting off more and more often – but sometimes, even that was no escape. Jordan hadn’t ventured to come near him since the restraining order had been issued – but that did not keep him out of Adam’s dreams. Waking or sleeping, Adam’s life had become a nightmare of torment, both internal and external, from which he couldn’t seem to escape.

“Hey.”

Adam grimaced as Kris sat down on the edge of the sofa, leaning lightly against Adam’s legs and resting a gentle hand on his thigh, dark eyes earnest and questioning. It was too late to close his eyes and pretend to sleep, so Adam turned his face into the crook of his arm and mumbled a reluctant response.

“Hey.”

“Whatcha doin’?”

The question was enough to draw Adam’s incredulous gaze back up to Kris’s face with a dubiously raised brow. “Origami. What does it _look_ like I’m doing?”

Kris ignored Adam’s sarcasm, his expression brightening with an expectant smile. “Good, then you’re not busy. There’s some stuff we need to take care of, and I don’t have to go to the studio today, so I thought it’d be a good day to do it.”

“To do what?” Adam groaned, turning his face away again. “I don’t want to do anything…”

“Come on, you’ve been cooped up in this house for a week, Adam. It’s time you got out into the…”

“Flashing cameras? Paparazzi? Staring strangers every place we go?”

Kris frowned slightly, but his tone was mild, patient, as he replied softly, “I… was _going_ to say… fresh air? Sunshine? You know… actually getting _off_ the couch?”

Adam reluctantly complied, drawing his knees up and around Kris to place his feet on the floor as he forced himself to rise to a sitting position. He rubbed wearily at his eyes with one hand before giving Kris a look of resignation.

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Well… Jordan took control of all your existing accounts, right?”

Adam frowned, feeling guilty and uncomfortable at the reminder of how fully he’d allowed Jordan to take over his life. “Yeah…?”

“So… do your paychecks automatically go into those accounts, or… how does that work?”

Adam thought for a moment, wondering where Kris was headed with this. “When I do a show, I usually get an actual paper check, which, um… I’d usually… give to Jordan.” Adam’s face flushed with embarrassment, and he couldn’t look at Kris as he rushed to continue. “And my royalties, those automatically go into my main bank account… which is now in Jordan’s name.”

“But… the actual _payments_ are still in your name, right?” Kris clarified. “So like… in theory… you could just contact your record company and have them start sending the money to a different account…”

“Well, Jordan has access to _all_ my accounts…”

“So we open you up a new one.” Kris smiled. “Have all future royalties come there. He’s taken enough from you, Adam. We shouldn’t let him take any more.”

Adam bit his lower lip, his mind automatically going to what Jordan’s reaction would be when he found out. He shook his head slightly, his lips parted, already poised to offer some weak excuse for why it was not a good idea. Before he could speak, Kris reached out to gently clasp his hand, and Adam looked up at him, uncertain.

“He can’t hurt you anymore, Adam,” Kris reminded him. “You can do what you want.”

Adam hesitated, thoroughly unconvinced. But… Kris wanted him to do it, and… Kris had done so much for him these past few weeks, and…

“Okay,” he agreed softly. “If you think it’s a good idea…”

“I do.” Kris’s tone was serious, and slightly pleading. “And… I think it’s time we got you a new phone number, too. In your own name, not Jordan’s. So he doesn’t have any access to know who you’re in contact with and when, and he can’t call you, ever. A new, unlisted number.”

Adam nodded a little more readily to that, feeling a sense of relief at the idea that the numerous calls back and forth between his and Kris’s phone would no longer be visible to his violently possessive ex-boyfriend.

“And, um… once we do that…” Kris hesitated, and Adam frowned as he searched his face, feeling vaguely uneasy at the trepidation he saw in Kris’s eyes. “I’ve been wondering… if maybe you’d like to get back in touch with some of your friends. I’ve been… taking their calls, and letting them know you’re all right, and that I’ll give you their messages, but… some of them are kinda freaking out, and… and I just thought… maybe you’d like to…”

“I don’t want to talk to any of them,” Adam insisted, the slight tremor in his voice giving him away. His stomach lurched with a strange mixture of fear and longing at what Kris was suggesting. “I mean… it’s been so long, and… and we probably wouldn’t even know each other anymore…” He was quiet for a moment before adding in a voice barely over a whisper, in a tone of regretful confession, “I’m… not even the same _guy_ anymore…”

“But they still love you, Adam,” Kris reminded him gently. “They miss you. They’re happy that you’re okay, but… but they’d like to hear it from you, you know? To see you with their own eyes and _know_ …”

Adam was quiet, his mind filling with images from years past, before he and Jordan had moved in together, when he’d had an expansive and complex circle of intimate friends – people he loved and trusted, who looked out for him and told him the truth, even when he didn’t wan to hear it.

 _Until you threw that away. Until you stopped taking their calls and shut them out completely. Why would they even_ want _to talk to you anymore, after the way you treated them?_

“Danielle keeps calling me,” Kris informed him softly. “I told her you’ll call when you’re ready, but… she says you probably won’t _ever think_ you’re ready. She keeps asking me to just… just hand you the phone and not tell you who it is ‘til you actually _talk_ to her, but… but I didn’t want to do that to you…”

Adam couldn’t help the slight smile of warm affection that crossed his lips at those words. “That sounds just like her,” he admitted before he’d realized he was going to speak aloud. “She’d always say, ‘At least there’s someone who’ll do what’s best for you, whether you like it or not.’ And… she always was…”

“She still is,” Kris pointed out. “And… and Brad keeps calling. He’s a little more… pissed, I guess. He’s made a lot of… very colorful threats that I won’t repeat, to tell you what he’ll do if you don’t call him back, so… I’d understand if you don’t want to call _him_ back…”

But there was a slight smirk of amusement that took the harshness out of Kris’s words, and Adam found himself wishing that he could have heard for himself what Brad had said. His ex-boyfriend-turned-intimate-friend had always had a way with words, and never hesitated to say exactly what he thought – and always had encouraged Adam to do the same.

Adam missed that – missed _Brad_.

 _And Danielle… and all the others… God, I used to have a whole second_ family! _Until… until Jordan made me cut them off…_

 _But… he’s not here_ now. _And… and maybe he’ll find a way to get to you later on, and maybe you’ll be sorry for it in the end, but… do you really want to die… or even just live the rest of your life… knowing that you never told them you were sorry? That you never let them know you didn’t want to do it?_

“I… I want to see them,” Adam admitted, blinking back tears. “I… I’m _scared_ to, but… but I _need_ to see them.”

Kris reached into his pocket and took out his phone, holding it out to Adam. “You wanna…?”

Adam grimaced, staring at the phone for a moment, a cold tremor of uneasiness coming over him, a deep fear of the rejection and rightful fury he expected to face from the friends he’d rejected. “No, I… I probably should wait and talk to them in person. Can you just… can you call them for me? See if they wanna… come over here sometime?”

Kris nodded, giving Adam a warm, understanding smile as he put his phone back in his pocket and rose to his feet, leaning down to press a chaste, tender kiss – barely a brush of his closed lips – against Adam’s temple, before turning to leave the room.

“I’ll make the calls. You’re doing the right thing, Adam. You’re not going to regret this.”

Adam crossed his arms over his stomach, watching as Kris left the room, trying to control the tremor that passed through him with the knowledge of what he’d just agreed to – and hoping against hope that Kris was right.


	41. Chapter 41

Kris paced anxiously back and forth across the living room floor, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as Leila watched him with distracted, troubled eyes. The clock suddenly chimed, announcing that it was seven o’clock, and Kris jumped, his stomach lurching as he momentarily mistook the sound for the doorbell.

When he realized his mistake, Kris let out a shaky sigh, running a trembling hand through his hair before stopping in front of Leila, an uncertain frown on his lips.

“We’re doing the right thing, right?”

Leila stared up at him for a long moment, and Kris felt a cold tremor beginning in the pit of his stomach, until she finally spoke. “Dr. Harlin said we need to try to help him reconnect with his life before Jordan,” she reminded him gently. “She said it’d help him to feel alive again. And that’s all we’re doing, Kris. There’s no reason why this shouldn’t be just fine…”

“Unless it’s too much too soon,” Kris countered darkly, glancing uneasily toward the door. “Unless it’s overwhelming for him, and just pushes him further into that shell he’s been hiding in…”

“I’m… not sure that’s possible at this point.” Leila sighed, a worried grimace twisting her lips as she looked toward the stairs where Adam would soon be appearing. “I’m pretty sure we’re in a ‘can’t get any worse’ kind of situation…”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Kris groaned, lowering his head into his hands as he sank down onto the edge of the sofa. “That’s the worst thing you possibly could have said…”

At that moment, the doorbell rang, and both turned their gaze toward the door before meeting each other’s eyes with dread.

“You realize you just jinxed the entire evening, right?” Kris pointed out, genuine worry barely concealed beneath his darkly teasing tone. “We’re doomed now.”

Leila crossed the short distance between them to place her hands on Kris’s shoulders, leaning in close and holding his gaze as she reassured him once more, her tone measured and certain.

“It’s going to be _fine_. All right? Now why don’t you go answer your front door, while I go get my son, and we’ll let someone else help us help him for a change? This is _exactly_ what he needs – okay?”

Kris nodded, swallowing back his unease and uncertainty as he obediently rose to his feet and headed for the door. He wished he could be as sure as Leila was about the decision they’d made. Of course, it was at least a little comforting that it had been recommended by the therapist they’d both been seeing – the therapist that Adam still refused to see. It had been during Kris’s third visit that she’d recommended getting Adam back into contact with his old friends from before he’d met Jordan, and Kris had been initially relieved that Adam had agreed to it so easily.

Now, however – he wasn’t so sure.

When Kris opened the door to find both Brad and Danielle waiting there, he didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried that neither of them seemed any less nervous than he was.

 _Maybe that means this is normal, and it’s all going to be okay regardless of my fears… or maybe it just means they don’t have a clue how to act with him, and it’s going to be weird and awkward and just convince him to retreat further than ever…_

Kris’s heart lurched at the sound of two sets of footsteps on the stairs, and he found himself automatically rising to his feet as Adam entered the room, followed closely by Leila. Adam’s arms were crossed over his stomach in a nervous, defensive gesture, and his face was taut and pale, eyes wide with very visible fear. He froze just inside the living room door, staring at his friends as if he could not quite believe that they were actually there, and wasn’t sure how to react.

Fortunately, Danielle kept him from having to figure it out.

She immediately rose from her chair and crossed the room swiftly, not waiting for an invitation before wrapping her arms around her friend and hugging him tightly. Adam just stood there for a moment, his hands awkwardly extended in front of him, as if unsure whether or not his touch would be welcome – before slowly venturing to return her embrace. After a few tense moments, the emotion that weighted the encounter broke forth, and Adam lowered his head against her shoulder to hide his silent tears. His entire body was visibly trembling as Danielle finally raised her head to press a tender kiss against his temple, speaking softly into his ear, though her words were clearly audible in the stillness of the room.

“I missed you _so much_ …”

“I’m sorry,” Adam whispered, his voice hoarse and broken, his face lowered in shame. “I… m-missed you… I just… I’m so sorry…”

“No, don’t you dare,” Danielle cut him off fiercely, tilting his head up with one hand and demanding that he meet her gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m just so glad to see you, Adam. So glad you’re… you’re _safe_ …”

Her voice broke over the word, and she brushed a soft kiss across his shoulder, blinking back her own tears, before reluctantly releasing him and stepping to the side to allow him further into the room. Even so, she left her arm around his waist, seemingly unwilling to break contact for fear that if she did, she might lose him again.

Adam directed his attention toward Brad, whose face was impassive as he stood a few yards away, his arms crossed over his chest in a vaguely defiant posture.

“So… two fuckin’ _years_ … and you couldn’t make one phone call?”

“It hasn’t been two years…” Adam objected with a frown.

Brad shrugged. “Close enough.”

Indignant, Kris opened his mouth to protest.

 _Just what I was afraid of. I knew someone would say something stupid. Big surprise that it’s_ Brad. _How dare he start throwing accusations around? That’s the_ last _thing Adam needs right…_

“It’s not like I had a choice,” Adam pointed out before Kris could speak, his voice trembling with rising anger. “You _know_ …”

“Whatever. I would _never_ blow _you_ off like that,” Brad argued.

“Yeah. Except for all the times you _did_.”

“Oooh, dirty.” Brad smirked. “And right in front of your _mother_ , Adam.”

Adam just rolled his eyes dismissively. Kris was pretty sure by this point that Leila was not that easily offended – and Brad knew her well enough to know that. At any rate, Kris found himself relaxing despite the confrontation, which wasn’t causing any _real_ tension as far as he could tell. In fact, Kris couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Adam so animated – let alone going so far as to actually express anger or defend himself.

“Oh, please,” Adam scoffed, his words confirming Kris’s suspicions. “She’s heard a lot worse come out of _your_ mouth. And anyway, what about that time when you went to Vegas and didn’t return my calls for a week? How’s _that_ for blowing me off?”

Brad opened his mouth to retort, but either couldn’t find the words to respond – or simply couldn’t find words at all. His expression faded from amusement and attitude to something softer and sadder as he slowly closed his mouth again, biting his lower lip for a moment before he pointed out softly,

“It wasn’t the same, and you know it.”

Adam was silent then, swallowing hard. He had no comeback for the words he knew were true.

“I was so fuckin’ worried about you,” Brad confessed at last, all pretense of bravado vanishing as he rose to his feet and took his own turn at hugging Adam, though he had to rise up on his toes to do it. “I didn’t know if you were okay, or…” He shook his head, venturing an attempt at a smile as he added, “If it wasn’t for _E!_ , I’d have thought you were dead.”

Adam’s eyes were wide, blinking rapidly as he replied in a hushed, hoarse tone. “I almost was.”

“Don’t. Don’t say that.” Brad held onto Adam’s arms tightly, resting his head against Adam’s chest for a moment before looking up at him, his face streaked with tears. “No, just… don’t even go there because I can’t think about that…” He shook his head, raising one hand to brush away his tears before rolling his eyes at his own emotional display. “I just missed you so much. I just… I’m so glad you’re here.” He paused, glancing pointedly around Kris’s living room before adding dubiously, “Not that I ever thought _I_ would be… _here_ , actually.”

His comment broke the tension in the room, as even Kris found himself laughing, though he was pretty sure the joke was at least a little at his expense.

 _Maybe this_ is _going to work. Maybe this was a good idea, after all…_

********************************************

Kris hadn’t seen Adam so comfortable and contented since… well, since _ever_.

Even on the Idol tour, Adam had had to contend with those who thought badly of him simply because of who he was. Back then, he’d been confident and generally happy, yeah – but Kris had always known that he’d had a certain guard up, long before Jordan had entered his life.

Tonight, however, Adam was surrounded by people who loved him and accepted him completely – and the effect was obvious.

He was half-sitting, half-lying on the sofa, his head resting against Danielle’s shoulder, his long legs tangled casually with Brad’s, who was sitting at the other end of the sofa, his back against the armrest. Leila sat in the armchair nearest the sofa, while Kris sat across from them, the coffee table between them and him.

It felt like a much greater distance than it actually was.

Kris was thrilled to see Adam so at ease and happy for once. He enjoyed listening to the stories – both wild and strange, and affectionate and familiar at once – and felt a certain measure of relief at the knowledge that he and Leila would no longer have to be the sole emotional support for Adam, and the issues that none of them really knew how to deal with. He knew that this was a _good_ development, for all concerned, but… somehow, it left him feeling almost…

… _unnecessary_.

When the time came for Brad and Danielle to go home, Kris said polite goodbyes to Adam’s friends before dismissing himself to the kitchen to give them a few minutes of privacy. Leila had long since gone to bed for the night, and Kris felt restless and uncertain, pacing, uncomfortable with the knowledge that these people who loved Adam so deeply also shared a history with him that Kris could never have.

 _You could have, though. You chose to push him away. It’s your own fault if he chooses them over you…_

 _God,_ listen _to yourself! This isn’t about choosing sides, or_ winning _something. This is about what’s best for_ Adam. _You don’t have the right to be a selfish, jealous prick about it._

 _Even if that means losing him to them._

Kris was shaken out of his brooding, melancholy thoughts when Adam entered the kitchen, a sleepy, sated smile on his lips as he warmly met Kris’s eyes. He crossed the distance between them and enveloped Kris in a hug, holding him close for a few moments before withdrawing, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Thanks,” he whispered. “You… you have no idea how much I needed that. I thought… I mean… I think I… forgot…” Adam shook his head at last, giving up on finding the words to express the need that had been met by the evening’s visit – but Kris thought he understood. “Just… thanks,” Adam repeated, before releasing Kris and retreating toward the stairs.

Kris lingered in the kitchen a few minutes, thinking over the evening and relishing the comfort and reassurance of Adam’s affectionate words and actions. He still couldn’t shake his uncertainties, especially when it came to Brad. He pictured the casual intimacy with which Adam and Brad had touched each other that night, and was unable to forget the fact that their intimacy had once been much more than casual.

 _He knows Adam better than I ever could… probably knows what he needs better than I ever could. He kinda showed that tonight._

 _So what if I’ve just opened a door? What if tonight was the groundwork for the two of them to eventually get back together?_

 _And what if that’s what Adam wants – or_ needs _?_

With a weary sigh, Kris finally headed up the stairs, deciding that he was ready to quit thinking for the night and get some rest. As he reached the top of the stairs, Kris was surprised to see Adam standing in the doorway to the guest room where he’d been staying. Adam beckoned Kris closer with one hand as he glanced up and down the hall, as if trying to make sure that they were alone.

Kris frowned slightly, puzzled, as he approached – and was startled as Adam stepped out into the hallway to close the rest of the distance between them, unexpectedly bending down to capture Kris’s lips in a soft, yearning kiss that was brief, but intense. When he drew back, Kris was wide-eyed, wondering, shaking his head slightly in a silent question.

Adam tucked his head, his expression soft and grateful and almost shy as he shrugged slightly. “You really did… so much for me tonight,” he explained quietly. “You… gave me back something I thought I’d lost for good. Kris, I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confessed, and the honest vulnerability in his voice made Kris’s chest ache with a confusing mess of incomprehensible emotions.

Adam shrugged again, a tentative smile ghosting across his lips as he concluded softly.

“I just thought I’d… you know… thank you properly.”

And with that, he ducked back into his room, closing the door quietly behind him – and leaving Kris to try to make sense of all that had happened that night – and all that was happening between him and Adam.


	42. Chapter 42

“So… I’m pretty sure it worked. I haven’t seen Adam so relaxed since he’s been back. I was a little worried, but I think it was really good for him. Maybe it’ll help him get back to normal a little bit sooner…”

Kris’s words trailed off, his smile fading slightly, and he looked up expectantly for the psychologist’s reaction to his words. He immediately looked away again at the knowing expression in her eyes – but escape was not going to be that easy.

“But… there’s something that’s still bothering you, isn’t there? About Adam’s seeing his friends again. Is there something else that happened last night that you’re not telling me?”

Kris hesitated, unwilling to share the insecurities that still lingered, despite the reassurance of Adam’s kiss the night before. And then, there were the new concerns caused by that sweet, tender moment between them – new questions to which Kris did not have the answers.

 _And… that’s why I’m here, right? It doesn’t do any good to go to therapy if you’re gonna lie to the therapist._

“Well… after Brad and Danielle left, Adam… uh… he kissed me.” Kris felt his face flush self-consciously, even as a smile rose to his lips at the memory. “He initiated it, and… and it was nice, but… I’ve been trying to wait, you know? To… make sure he knows what he wants before we take things any farther between us. And… you said that was a good idea…”

“Right.” The therapist frowned slightly, thoughtfully. “Adam initiated the kiss? So… do you feel that’s what he really wanted?”

“I’m not sure,” Kris admitted with a little grimace. “See… that’s the problem. I’m not sure if he kissed me because he _wanted_ to kiss me, or because… he thinks he _owes_ me or something, you know? He said he wanted to… well… his exact words were ‘thank me properly’ for the evening.”

Dr. Harlin’s expression matched Kris’s when she heard those words. “Ooh. Yeah. I can see where you might have a problem there…”

“I don’t want him to feel like he doesn’t have a choice, you know? I think… he’s been made to feel like… he’s not… capable, or… or deserving… of making his own decisions. I asked him if he wanted his friends to come over, because I wanted it to be _his_ decision, but… he just said ‘If you think it’s a good idea’. That’s the only way he’d agree to it, so I went ahead with it, but now… now, he’s giving me all the credit, and like… I don’t know. I don’t want him to just… trade in _Jordan’s_ control over his life for mine, you know?”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” Dr. Harlin agreed with a nod. “If Adam was my patient, I know exactly what I’d tell him today – an exercise I’d give him to help him learn to set his own boundaries and make his own choices again. But, since he’s not my patient, the idea is going to have to come from you.”

Kris frowned. “Isn’t that just me pushing one more thing on him? Isn’t that a _bad_ thing?”

“In a sense, yes, it is,” Dr. Harlin admitted. “But right now, Adam needs your reassurance and support as much as or more than he needs to reestablish his own autonomy. At any rate, it doesn’t seem as if he’s _ready_ to do so yet.” She paused, allowing her words to sink in before continuing softly, “We’re in a position where we don’t have _good_ options so much as we have bad ones and… less bad ones. And the less bad option in this case is for you to help Adam make good choices and learn to protect himself again. Now, listen carefully, Kris. Here’s what I want you to say to Adam when you go home tonight…”

****************************************

When Kris walked into his house that afternoon, Adam was waiting in the living room, but for once the television was turned off, and he was scribbling hastily in a black and white composition notebook. He looked up with a bright smile as Kris approached, and Kris returned it, curiosity in his eyes.

“What’re you workin’ on?” he asked, venturing a peek over Adam’s shoulder.

Adam pulled the notebook away quickly, his smile not faltering, but going a little shy as he confessed, “A song.”

Kris felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and relief, as he gave Adam a teasingly pouting look. “I can’t see it?”

“Not yet.” Adam shook his head. “Not ‘til it’s finished.”

“Fair enough.” Kris hesitated a moment before continuing, “Can you take a little break? We need to talk about something.”

“Uh-oh.” Adam’s smile faded a bit, uncertainty in his eyes as he laid the notebook aside and turned to face Kris more fully. “Those words are never good. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk to you about what happened last night…”

Adam’s shoulders fell slightly, his expression showing his relief. “That was so amazing,” he said, his tone clearly revealing his gratitude. “ _You’re_ so amazing, Kris. You have no idea how much that meant to me. I had such a wonderful night, and I wouldn’t have ever done it if you hadn’t made me…”

Kris cringed inwardly at Adam’s innocent choice of words – further evidence that he was still dangerously dependent on Kris to make his decisions.

 _I don’t want to_ make _him do_ anything – _ever. He’s had enough of that to last a lifetime._

 Kris’s voice was gentle as he cautiously chose his words. “I’m glad you had a good time. You made the right choice in agreeing to invite them over. But… that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean… what happened… after they left…”

Adam’s face immediately fell, his eyes wide and worried as he understood what Kris was talking about. His voice was trembling and apologetic, and the fear Kris saw in his face – fear of rejection, or anger, or… _worse_ – was heartbreaking. “Oh. _Oh_. I-I’m sorry, Kris, I... I shouldn’t have… I mean… it was wrong of me to just assume that it was okay…”

“No, Adam, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Kris rushed to reassure him, stumbling over his words. “I… I _wanted_ you to. I mean… if _you_ wanted to, or… _want_ to...”

 _God, could this_ be _any more awkward?_

“The kiss was… _amazing_ , Adam,” Kris confessed at last, holding Adam’s gaze with his own earnest eyes, trying to will away the insecurity and shame he saw there. “Really. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you to do… just that. I’m _glad_ you did it, I really am. It’s just… now that it happened… I think we need to talk about… what it _means_.”

“Oh. O-okay.”

Adam blinked in surprise, clearly having expected Kris to say something entirely different. He visibly relaxed a little, though he still seemed a little guarded – as if expecting Kris at any moment to take back his reassurances and yank the proverbial rug out from under his feet. The depth of Adam’s insecurity and brokenness put an almost physical ache in Kris’s heart, and he resolved once more to do all he could to earn Adam’s trust, and prove to him that life with Kris would never be like life with Jordan.

“It’s just… I never want to… to take advantage of you, Adam. I want to be sure that we’re on the same page with this, all right?” Kris tried to explain. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, aware that he would have to make the first step, as Adam certainly didn’t have the confidence to do so at this point. “I… I want us to be together. I know that it might not be the right time – we’ve talked about this, but – it seems like we keep saying we’re not gonna be together yet, and we keep… slipping up, so… maybe it’s better if we just go with it, I don’t know.” Kris sighed, his solemn gaze locking onto Adam’s face in a searching expression. “What do _you_ think? What do you… _want_?”

Kris’s softly spoken confession seemed to ease some of Adam’s fears, and his expression softened gradually as Kris spoke, gratitude clear in his honest, vulnerable gaze.

“You,” he admitted in a hoarse whisper, reaching out a trembling hand to clasp Kris’s and pull it over onto his own knee. “I… I want _you_ , Kris.” He hesitated, his lips parted slightly, before continuing in a cautious, uncertain tone, “I… I’m not ready yet to… to do _some_ things, but… but I want to be with you, Kris. If… if you want me…”

“ _Of course_ I want you!” Kris declared, incredulous, leaning toward Adam and placing a reassuring, affectionate hand on his arm. “That’s… not even a _question_! It’s just… if we’re going to do this… to try to really be… a _couple_ … there has to be some… some _boundaries_.”

Adam looked down at their joined hands on his knee, swallowing hard. “Of course. I get it.” He nodded. “Whatever… whatever boundaries you need, Kris… I won’t cross them, I promise…”

“No, Adam.” Kris waited until Adam looked up at him, confusion in his troubled eyes, to explain softly, “I’m talking about _your_ boundaries.”

“Oh.” Adam seemed startled, taken aback by the concept. After a moment he offered a nervous, rueful smile and admitted, “In case you hadn’t noticed, I, uh… kinda don’t have any. That’s, um… kinda the problem…”

“I know.” Kris nodded, his words gentle and understanding. “That’s why I want you to set some.”

Adam frowned, shaking his head slightly. “I… I don’t understand…”

“Adam, I… I care about you so much…” Kris reached out to take Adam’s free hand in his, wishing he’d had the courage to choose the words he’d _really_ wanted to say, but afraid that saying them this early on would only freak Adam out. “I never, ever want to do anything to hurt you or… or make you uncomfortable in any way. I never want to… to cross the lines that Jordan did.”

“You won’t,” Adam insisted. “I know you wouldn’t…”

“I won’t,” Kris agreed, clarifying softly, “as long as I know where those lines _are_. Okay? A relationship is… give and take. Each person thinking about what the other needs, and doing their best to give it to them, so… so that’s what I need from you, Adam. To… to know what you need from _me_.”

Adam was quiet for a long moment, staring down at Kris’s lap, before shaking his head in bewilderment. “I just… I really don’t know what to say…”

“Just… tell me some of the things that you _don’t_ like in a relationship. You know, stuff that Jordan… or other guys, it doesn’t matter… or, heck, even _me_ … have done that made you unhappy. Give me some… well, for lack of a better word…” Kris shrugged slightly with an apologetic grimace. “… _rules_ that you don’t want me to break if we’re going to be together.”

“Um…” Adam swallowed, clearly very self-conscious and uncertain. “I, um… well… I don’t want you to ever… hit me, or… or hurt me. Physically.”

Kris found himself blinking back tears, horrified and heartbroken by the fact that Adam even felt he had to _mention_ that.

“I promise you,” he stated softly, gently squeezing Adam’s hand. “I will _never_.”

Adam nodded, biting his lower lip and frowning thoughtfully. “Okay. Um… I… don’t really know what else I should say…”

“What you _want_ to say,” Kris prodded gently. “Think about it. What things… besides the… the hitting and stuff… did Jordan do that made you feel… hurt, or… or bad about yourself?”

After a moment, Adam glanced up at Kris again, venturing cautiously, “I guess, um… I don’t really want you to… to call me names. In public. You know, like… Jordan would always say… he’d talk to me like I was stupid, or… or call me a… a whore… and… it made me feel like…” Adam’s words were halting, trembling with emotion, as he struggled to find them. “I just… I know you’re gonna be… pissed off at me sometimes, and all, but… but when he’d say those things… in front of other people…”

Adam finally gave up, shaking his head, his face flushed with shame, and Kris fairly held his breath, torn between gratitude that Adam was opening up to him about his painful memories, and horror at what he had been through to bring him to a place where he felt like the simple respect due to anyone as a _person_ was something that he had to _ask_ for.

“I’ll never talk to you like that, Adam,” Kris promised. “In public or in private. You deserve to be treated with respect, and I always will. Okay?”

Adam nodded, his eyes suddenly averted, and Kris saw that his lower lip was trembling, in the instant before Adam bit down on it, struggling to hide the sudden onslaught of his emotions. “I, um… I can’t…” Adam’s voice was shaking too hard for him to go on, and he bit his lip again, lowering his head and raising one hand to shield his eyes from view.

“It’s okay,” Kris insisted softly, as he scooted closer on the couch, tentatively sliding his arms around Adam, unwilling to startle or embarrass him. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do this all now. All right? We can talk about this more later, after you’ve had time to think about it.”

“Okay,” Adam whispered, nodding gratefully.

When Adam leaned forward into his embrace, Kris could feel the fine tremors coursing through his body, and felt his own emotions swelling up to the edges of his control.

“Shh,” he murmured, pulling Adam close and leaning back against the sofa, supporting them both as Adam lowered his head to rest against Kris’s shoulder. “Come here,” he whispered. “It’s all right…”

Adam hid his face against Kris’s neck, his arms wrapping around Kris to return his embrace, and Kris gently kissed his temple, running one hand slowly, soothingly up and down Adam’s back before bringing it to rest in the fine hairs at the back of his neck. Adam didn’t seem to be crying, not really, but he was trembling, and clinging to Kris as if he thought if he let go, Kris might somehow slip from his grasp.

“Come on, Adam,” he ventured at last in a hushed, coaxing voice. “Talk to me. What is it? What are you… what are you thinking right now?”

Adam was silent for a long time before he finally answered, his voice sounding strangely small and heartrendingly vulnerable. “I… I just… I don’t know how to deal with this, Kris,” he confessed. “With… with _you_ , and… the way you…” He shook his head slightly against Kris’s shoulder, at a loss, one hand clenched and trembling in the soft fabric of Kris’s shirt. He let out a harsh, bitter laugh before declaring, “I’m going to royally suck at this whole relationship thing, Kris. Because… I don’t have a fuckin’ clue how it’s _supposed_ to work. You know? And… I know you’re gonna get tired of… of _this_ …” He released his grip on Kris’s shirt to wave a hand in a vague gesture indicating the entire situation.  “Of… _me_ , behaving like a pathetic little kid, and all my… my _issues_. I won’t blame you if you change your mind, or… or sometimes…” He hesitated, and Kris’s heart clenched at the loaded tone in which he spoke his last few whispered words. “… lose your temper. I… I wouldn’t blame you, I know I can be… difficult… to live with…”

“Adam. Look at me.” Kris’s tone was stern but soft as he drew back slightly, waiting until Adam reluctantly raised his troubled eyes to obey. Kris placed a tender hand against Adam’s cheek, looking into his eyes with a fierce, unyielding gaze. “There is _nothing_ … you could _possibly_ do… that would ever give me, or anyone else, the right to hurt you. _Ever_. Do you understand me?”

Adam nodded, but he looked away as he did, and Kris could feel his doubt and uncertainty.

“You deserve to be loved and respected and… and treated like… like the amazing, incredible person that you are. And that’s what I intend to do, Adam – what I’m _going_ to do.” Kris tilted Adam’s chin up again, insisting that he face him, before adding with a warm, adoring smile. “Because anyone who can’t do that… doesn’t deserve to have you in his life. And… I want you to be in my life for a long, long time.”

Adam stared at him through wondering, disbelieving eyes, shaking his head slightly. “I… I want that, too,” he confessed at last, burying his face against Kris’s shoulder again. “ _So, so much_.”

Kris returned to gently stroking Adam’s back, encouraging him to relax against him, and holding him close, just savoring the closeness and unexpected intimacy of the moment. The conversation hadn’t gone as he’d intended, and yet he still felt that progress had been made between them. Kris closed his eyes, his heart swelling with a wave of emotions that he couldn’t quite define, and he let them sweep over him, holding onto Adam as if he’d never let go.

 _Day by day… one moment at a time… I’ll earn his trust, and help him find himself again… and prove to him that he’s worth loving._

 _And_ then _… I’ll_ love _him._

 _As long as he’ll let me._


	43. Chapter 43

“So, now that we’re officially together… I guess we need to… well… _come out_.”

Adam raised a single eyebrow at Kris’s hesitant words, a slight smirk beginning at the corner of his mouth. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m way ahead of you on that one, Kris.”

Kris couldn’t help but smile at those words. “You know what I mean. Tell our families, friends… I don’t know, maybe more?”

Adam’s smile faded a little. “Friends and family, yeah. That’s a given, but… more?”

“Maybe…” Kris hesitated, his words accompanied by an apologetic little half-shrug. “… maybe go public about it? I mean… there’s enough stress for all of us right now, without adding to it by trying to hide this big secret… especially when there’s no _reason_ to have to keep it a secret, you know? I’m thinking… rather than having to worry about whether or not someone catches us holding hands, or faking like we’re just friends anytime we leave the house – we should just come out with it. Issue a statement or something. You know?”

Adam worried his lower lip between his teeth, looking away for a moment; and when he looked back at Kris, his eyes were troubled and wary.

“Jordan…” His voice was low and trembling slightly. “Jordan would _freak_.”

Kris reached out to take Adam’s hand, feeling a softening of sympathy within him when he felt how strongly it was trembling. “Who cares?” he pointed out firmly, though not without gentleness in his tone. “He’ll be doing his freaking far, far away from _you_.”

Adam didn’t seem to find that idea as amusing as Kris had hoped. He was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in pensive uncertainty. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft and carefully calm.

“I… I’m not sure I’m… ready for that, Kris.”

“Okay,” Kris agreed. “It’s your choice, Adam. Only if you want to. I just… I _do_ think it’s a good idea.” Kris was quiet for a moment, but Adam said nothing, simply waited for him to go on. “Here’s the thing. I think… the greatest power that Jordan ever had over you was… in your _silence_. You know?”

Adam’s frown deepened with confusion, and he shook his head slowly.

“I remember a conversation we had once in the mansion – back when we were still roommates, before anyone had gotten eliminated from the finals yet – and I asked you whether or not you even cared at all what anyone thought. I just… was so amazed by how… how _open_ you were about everything. I mean, I know there were things you couldn’t talk about as freely back then, but I’ll never forget what you said to me.”

Adam’s eyes flashed with amusement for a brief moment as he replied, “Good. Because _I_ sure have. What did I say?”

“You said that… the way you saw it, living your life as an open book was the only way to go. That way, no one could ever use anything against you, because there’d be nothing you were trying to hide. You could never be blackmailed, never be threatened with anything in your past – because you planned to make your past common knowledge.” Kris paused, holding Adam’s gaze intently and measuring his next words with careful precision. “Jordan… made you believe that you had something to be ashamed of – a secret that no one should ever know. The moment that he convinced you to keep that secret – the moment he took that openness and honesty away from you – was the moment when he won. And… the moment that you take that _back_ …”

Kris’s voice trailed off. He didn’t need to say anything more. Adam was nodding slowly, processing – and hopefully accepting – his words. Finally, Adam let out a slow, heavy breath.

“I need to think about it. I’m… I’m not sure, Kris. I just need… a little time to think about it.”

“Of course.” Kris gave Adam a reassuring smile, wanting to make it totally clear that he was not angry about Adam’s refusal to go public about them. He leaned in slowly, cautiously, holding Adam’s gaze until their lips were mere inches apart, and then closing that slight distance to press a soft, tender kiss against his lips. When he drew back, his voice was low and hoarse with desire he knew he’d have to repress a while longer. “Take all the time that you need.”

***********************************************

“So… we just wanted to be honest and up front with you guys about this, make sure that everything was out in the open, at least to the people we’re close to.”

Kris was somewhat proud of the fact that his voice remained steady and calm, in spite of the numerous pairs of solemn, worried eyes focused on him from various points around the table. His nerves were a frayed mess, and the scrutiny of Adam’s friends and mother were an almost physical pressure, making him feel unbearably self-conscious and insecure – but he felt like he was holding it together pretty well, all things considered.

“We’ve already contacted our family members that don’t live close enough to be here tonight – which is, pretty much _all_ of my family members… and Adam’s dad and brother…” Kris made eye contact first with Brad and then with Danielle before adding, “And any of Adam’s friends who aren’t here today, aren’t here because he’s not ready for them to know yet.”

A long, tense moment followed Kris’s words, before Danielle broke the silence. “With all due respect, Kris,” she began, a note of apology in her voice, “what about _your_ friends? Are you sure that no one _you’ve_ told is going to go to the press with the story?”

“Yeah.” Kris gave her a rueful smile. “Because I haven’t told anyone yet. Because… telling my friends that I’m with Adam now would necessitate a whole _other_ conversation that I haven’t had with them yet.” He shrugged. “I mean… going public would make it a lot simpler, and avoid that conversation for me, but… we’ve talked about it and decided that that’s not what we want to do right now.”

Kris ventured a cautious glance around his kitchen table at the small group, trying to gauge their reactions. It was just him and Adam, Leila, and Brad and Danielle – the only people in Adam’s life that he’d chosen to let back in, so far; but Kris felt as if he was facing an army intent on protecting Adam from any further threat to his safety or well-being – even if that threat happened to be him.

At least Leila did not seem surprised or upset at all. Kris knew from the conversations he had had with her that she had seen this coming long before even _he_ did. Danielle, however, seemed a little more guarded. Her dark eyes were solemn and wary, studying Kris with a scrutiny that made him uneasy, hoping that he might pass whatever secret test she might be applying to him.

Brad’s expression was one of unmasked suspicion, and he sat back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest, narrowed eyes focused, piercing, on Kris. There was a slight smile on his lips, but Kris was not at all sure that it was a pleasant smile.

“Look…” Adam spoke up, and Kris had never been so grateful for anything in his life. “… I know you guys are worried, and… and I’m _glad_ you are. It makes me feel… safer. And… I know this is maybe not the best time to get into a relationship, and I know that there are risks involved, but… but Kris is… so supportive, and… and kind, and… I need him in my life right now. I… I never would have left Jordan without him, so… please, guys… please try to accept this.”

Total silence met his words – broken once more by Danielle when she rose purposefully to her feet and moved to Adam’s side, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tight. When she withdrew, she met his gaze, eyes shining with tears over a bright smile.

“I’m really happy for you, sweetie,” she stated softly, kissing his cheek before moving on to give Kris a warm hug as well. She drew back, and the affection in her eyes did not falter as she added matter-of-factly, “Hurt him and I’ll kill you.”

“Naturally.”

Kris nodded his acceptance of her expected terms, smiling with relief as she returned to her seat, reaching across the table to clasp Adam’s hand and hold it in her own. Brad rose from his seat then, as well, and Kris half-expected him to repeat Danielle’s gesture, despite the suspicion he’d displayed thus far – but Brad apparently had something else in mind.

“Can I see you in the kitchen for a minute, Kris?” he asked with a deceptively sweet smile that sent a chill down Kris’s spine.

Kris swallowed hard, but nodded his agreement and rose to follow Brad toward the kitchen door.

“Brad…” Adam’s tone was warning and pleading at once. “What are you doing?”

Brad ignored him completely, and Kris shot Adam a look that was intended to be reassuring but probably came out more like a terrified plea for rescue. Nevertheless, no one followed Kris as he shut the kitchen door behind him and turned to face Brad, bracing himself for the worst. An awkward silence fell for a few moments, as Brad just stared at him, a calculating look in his impossibly pretty eyes, his jaw working as he seemed to be trying to find the words.

“I want to be happy for you two.” At last he broke the silence, his voice calm and controlled, his eye contact never faltering. “I really do, Kris. But… I’m a little torn on this. You seem like you really care about Adam – like you’re this really protective, concerned guy who just wants what’s best for him.” He paused, something dark and warning in his gaze as he pointed out softly, “So did Jordan. At first. Until he showed himself to be the abusive asshole he ultimately was.”

Kris opened his mouth to protest, but Brad was still talking.

“It makes me feel a _little_ better that you’re not built like some kind of fucking heavyweight wrestler or something like he is… knowing that if Adam needed to, he could tear you in two with his bare hands…” Brad was quiet for a moment, his voice heavy and sad with resignation as he added, “… but he wouldn’t. Even if he needed to. We both know that.”

Kris nodded slowly, closing his eyes for a moment against the heavy wave of sorrow that swept over him with those words. He knew exactly what Brad was talking about. Adam was still struggling with feelings of guilt and shame, with the idea that he had somehow brought the abuse on himself – and Kris knew that made him vulnerable to being abused again, should the person he chose to trust and lean on be inclined to abuse him.

It was a disconcerting thing for Kris, to know the kind of power he held over Adam right now, whether he wanted it or not.

“That’s where I have a problem with this,” Brad continued quietly, calmly. It didn’t feel so much like a threat as like a calm, rational conversation between two men with the same interests at heart, and that made Kris feel a little better. “He’s too vulnerable right now. He’ll go along with whatever you want.”

Kris nodded, accepting Brad’s words, recognizing the truth in them. “Then I guess it’s a good thing that what I want is just for him to be happy and safe.”

Brad studied him for a long moment before replying. “You’d better keep on wanting that. You’d better put his needs first and never ever take advantage of the position you’re in right now – because I’m telling you, Kris Allen, Adam might not be inclined to defend himself right now, but I am more than willing to pick up the slack in that department if it’s necessary.”

There was a dangerous light in Brad’s eyes as he stepped slowly closer to Kris, going on.

“No matter how many times I wanted to kill the bastard, even before I had any _clue_ what he was _really_ doing to Adam, I couldn’t have taken Jordan. No fucking way. You, on the other hand…” Brad’s smile was cool, almost predatory. “You, I could take. Yeah, maybe you’re a little more of a fighter than I am – but I’m not hindered by your Southern gentlemanliness or whatever. I’m not afraid to fight dirty.”

Kris’s eyes widened, and he found himself unintentionally taking a step backward as Brad neared him.

“If I ever suspect that you’ve hurt him in any way – laid a hand on him – I don’t care if you think it’s ‘fighting fair’ or not. I’ll bite and scratch and gouge your eyes out… dig my nails into your balls and twist them clean off if you so much as _raise your voice_ to him. Am I being perfectly clear, Kris?”

Kris nodded, feeling a strange sense of gratitude and affection mingled with the very genuine fear inspired by Brad’s fierce gaze and disturbingly descriptive words. He ventured a soft smile, his head tilting slightly as he responded in a quiet, accepting tone.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Brad. Why do you think I told Adam he needed to talk to you again?”

Brad blinked, clearly surprised by that revelation. After a moment, he visibly softened a little, letting out a sigh and taking a step back.

“I’m… sorry,” he grudgingly offered. “I just have to make sure he’s all right, since he’s not gonna do it for himself right now. I know this is…” He rolled his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “… bad form or whatever you Southern people call it… threatening you like this in your own house…”

“I’m pretty sure ‘bad form’ is British.” Kris grinned. “Down south, we just call it bad manners. But, I don’t mind… because you’re right to look out for him. I’m doing my best to do that, but… I can’t do it all on my own, you know?”

All remaining traces of hostility faded from Brad’s face, replaced by warmth and sympathy, and he placed a supportive hand on Kris’s arm, nodding in understanding. “I know… and I know you’re gonna take good care of Adam, Kris.” He smiled, bright and expectant, and Kris wasn’t sure whether to be worried or relieved when he concluded, “I’m just here to help make sure that you do.”


	44. Chapter 44

The week following Adam’s and Kris’s revelation of their relationship passed in relative peace and security for Adam. Although the specter of Jordan and his threats was always present in the back of Adam’s mind, and he knew that Jordan was probably watching him, or at least having him watched, Jordan did not make his presence known, and Adam allowed himself to begin to hope that maybe he’d seen the last of him.

 _Maybe the restraining order actually does mean something to him. If he violates it, he not only goes to jail, but he hurts his own case in court. Maybe he really will stay away until the trial – and then, if we can prove that he’s guilty, he’ll have to stay away from me for good…_ __

No matter how much he tried to reassure himself, however, Adam couldn’t quite shake the deep-seated fear that Jordan was merely biding his time, waiting for just the right moment to strike – and that when he found that moment, he would reappear with a vengeance. Jordan’s frequently repeated words echoed in his mind, again and again:

 _I’ll never let you go, Adam – never. You’re mine, and you always will be…_ __

Adam, Kris, and Adam’s publicist had agreed that it was probably a good idea to reschedule any appearances he had during the month before the trial, and as a result, Adam didn’t have anything work-related to keep his mind busy. Instead, he occupied his mind by spending time with Brad and Danielle during the days when his mother and Kris were at work, and spending the evenings with Kris when he got home. Leila was beginning to spend some of her nights at home again, though she still spent several nights a week at Kris’s house – but more and more often, Kris and Adam found themselves alone together.

Adam didn’t exactly mind.

Gradually, one fragmented piece at a time, his walls began to fall in the face of Kris’s patience and gentleness, and Adam found himself trusting Kris more completely with each day that went by. They would sit on the sofa and sometimes watch television or a movie – but more often than not they ended up stopping the DVD or muting the television and just talking, cradled close in each other’s arms. Adam found himself opening up more and more, reassured by Kris’s steady, accepting support. It seemed that there was nothing Adam could find to tell Kris, no matter how horrible or humiliating, that would shake his love and loyalty.

Like, for example, that Saturday afternoon.

As they lay cuddled together on the sofa, Adam’s head in Kris’s lap, and Kris’s gentle fingers teasing through Adam’s soft, unstyled hair, Kris smiled down at him, tugging a few strands gently between his fingertips as he confessed softly,

“I love your hair.”

Adam didn’t know why he felt the need to blurt out the first horrible thing that came to his mind, instead of simply saying “thank you” and keeping his dark memories to himself; but somehow, before he could think to stop himself, the words were falling from his lips, quiet and controlled, trembling with the dull, hollow ache in his chest that accompanied them.

“Jordan loves my hair, too.”

Kris’s hand went still, and Adam should have taken that as a warning, but despite the screaming alarms in his mind, he couldn’t stop talking.

“I wanted to cut it a few months back, but he wouldn’t let me. Said he liked it longer.” He paused, swallowing hard to dampen his dry mouth, his stomach quivering with the dark dread of his memories. “I think it’s just ‘cause… it’s easier to… to get a grip on. You know. If he… w-wanted to… g-grab me and keep me from leaving the room, or… or shove me around a little. He was always… grabbing it and… and pulling it, and…”

Adam’s voice finally trailed off, pressed into quiet submission by the heavy stillness that had fallen in the room. Kris’s hand was still unmoving in Adam’s hair for a long moment, before he stroked his fingers gently through the soft, dark strands again.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly. “I don’t want to… you know… if you don’t want me to…”

“It’s more than okay,” Adam whispered, turning his face against Kris’s thigh and giving him better access to the back of his head. “It… it feels good, and… and for a little while,” he confessed in a hoarse, trembling voice, “… it makes me forget.”

“I’m glad you don’t mind me touching it,” Kris’s tone was grateful, affectionate. “It’s one more thing about you that’s… unique, and special, and… and _you_ , Adam.” Kris’s voice was quiet, pensive. “It’s… beautiful, and… I can’t imagine anyone using that to hurt you. I promise… I never will. And… I’m going to just keep proving that to you. Over and over. As many times as I have to. Until… until when I touch you like this, it doesn’t make you remember what he did anymore. Until… all this makes you think of is… well… _this_.”

Adam had felt so overwhelmed with grateful emotion that for a few moments, he couldn’t speak. Kris was so accepting, so gentle and soothing with him, when he least expected it. Adam was certain that lesser men would certainly have taken his horrific tales as evidence that a relationship with him simply wasn’t worth the trauma.

 _Of course… you haven’t told him_ everything _yet,_ a nasty little voice whispered in the back of Adam’s mind. _If he knew all the things Jordan knew about you… if he knew all the things you let him_ do _to you… he’d probably run screaming, rather than be insane enough to actually get_ involved _with you…_

Adam had no intention of telling Kris _everything_ , ever; there were some dark pieces of the story of his relationship with Jordan that he never wanted brought to light – not even to Kris. But every time they were alone these days, it seemed like he found himself talking about things he hadn’t really meant to. The ugliness and pain and shame seemed to come pouring out when he most wanted to hide it, and he’d cringe even as he was speaking, certain that _this time_ , it would be more than Kris could take. _This time_ , Kris would decide that he really didn’t want to be mixed up in this nightmare after all.

But gradually, Adam’s fears began to fade into the background, as… _this time_ … never seemed to come.

 _Kris is so understanding… so patient with me, even when I act like a pathetic, psycho freak who can’t go twenty-four hours without some kind of meltdown. In fact, he actually_ wants _me to talk about what I’m feeling… what I’m going through…_

 _I can’t_ remember _the last time_ Jordan _cared enough to ask what I wanted… to ask if he was… making me happy… or what he could do to make things better between us. It means so much that Kris is always so concerned… always asking all these questions about respect and consideration and what I need from him…_

 _I just wish I knew the right answers._ __

A single week remained before the trial, and Adam was simply doing his best to put it out of his mind just a little while longer. He was secretly terrified – or not so secretly, as he knew by now that Kris saw right through his façade of courage – having no idea how they were going to prove their case. They had the physical evidence against Jordan – the pictures and doctor’s report – and Adam’s testimony… but that was all. The prosecutor’s office had called in all of Adam’s household staff for questioning.

None of them had admitted to ever witnessing Adam being abused in any way.

 _They’re not going to believe me. They’re going to buy his lies, and he’s going to get off… and he’s going to come after me…_ __

Adam tried to put the fearful thoughts out of his mind and simply focus on the soothing, pleasant feel of Kris’s warm, slightly callused hand running up and down his back under his t-shirt as they snuggled together on the sofa, watching an old Jim Carrey comedy that they’d seen at least a dozen times – each.

Which meant that there was not really very much _watching_ involved at all.

Kris was sitting with his back against the corner of the sofa, and Adam was very close to him, his head on Kris’s shoulder as he stretched out on the rest of the couch. He closed his eyes, relishing the sensation of the simple affection Kris so easily lavished upon him. Unbidden, an image of Jordan, and his disapproval should he see something like this between them, filled Adam’s mind, and a shiver of dread went through him.

 _Don’t think about it. Just don’t go there right now. You’ve got at least a little while longer with Kris, so focus on_ Kris… _and what he deserves from you…_

Adam lifted his head from Kris’s shoulder, and Kris gave him a soft, questioning smile. His expression slowly faded into solemn recognition, however, when he saw the desperation and desire in Adam’s eyes. His lips parted as Adam leaned in to capture his mouth in a soft kiss – then grew a little bolder, turning to face Kris more fully and deepen the kiss.

Kris’s hands trembled as they gently ran over Adam’s body – one on his back under his shirt, and the other slowly running up and down his thigh. Adam pushed Kris down onto the sofa beneath him, still kissing him as if he never wanted to stop, and Kris let out a soft moan of approval, hands drawing Adam in closer to him, sliding up under his shirt and stroking lightly along Adam’s sides, then drifting forward to trail across the soft skin of his stomach and toward the front of his jeans.

“Adam,” he whispered breathlessly, drawing back to meet Adam’s eyes, an almost reverent fire in his own. “God, you’re so _beautiful_ …”

******************************************

 _“You think you’re_ so hot _, don’t you, Adam?” Jordan demanded, his fist cutting off Adam’s intended denial and knocking him to the hardwood floor of their bedroom. “Think you can say whatever damn thing you like, and get away with it, because you’re a_ big time rock star _, aren’t you?”_

 _He spat the words at him with vicious contempt that made Adam flush with shame, shaking his head desperately as he scrambled backward across the floor, away from Jordan._ __

_“N-no… no, I don’t… I didn’t m-mean it like that, please…”_ __

_An interviewer that evening had asked a rather inappropriate question about whether or not Adam got a lot of groupie action. The question had been even more offensive due to the fact that Adam’s boyfriend had been sitting right beside him at the moment._ __

_Adam had offered a nervous laugh, reaching out to take Jordan’s hand as he’d replied, “I don’t get a lot of groupies. Jordan’s the first groupie I ever met… and he’s the first, last, and only!”_ __

_It was meant to be a joking but complimentary way of putting off a rude question – drawing attention to the fact that he_ had _a boyfriend and was faithful to him, without telling the interviewer off._

 _Jordan didn’t quite see it that way._ __

_“Shut your fuckin’ mouth, Adam,” Jordan snarled, taking off his belt in one smooth, sharp motion that made Adam’s stomach drop with fear. “Since apparently you don’t have anything to say that’s not pathetically_ stupid _and insulting.”_

 _“Please!” Adam begged him, moving as if to rise from the floor, desperate to put some distance between them. “Please, don’t…”_ __

_But Jordan lashed out with the metal end of the belt, catching Adam across the face and knocking him back down to the ground. He followed the first blow up with several more that left Adam shaking with agony, sobbing softly in the corner of the room, his hands raised in a pitiful attempt to protect his face. Jordan mercilessly gripped a handful of his hair and jerked him up to his knees, and Adam did his best to cooperate, too terrified of the consequences to dare resist, though pleading, stammered words spilled from his lips with the tears that fell from his eyes._

 _"Please, please s-stop, Jordan, please don't,_ _please_ _...!"_ __

_In one swift motion, before Adam knew what he was going to do, Jordan looped the end of the belt through the buckle and dropped it around Adam’s neck before jerking it tight and dragging him to his feet. Adam gasped for breath, panicked, struggling to pull the belt away from his throat as Jordan dragged him across the room toward the vanity table where he got ready for his shows. Jordan kept a firm grip on the belt at the back of Adam’s neck, shaking him slightly and forcing his face close to the oval, lighted mirror._ __

_“What do you see, Adam?” he demanded in a deceptively soft voice. “What do you see when you look in the mirror?”_ __

_He saw a terrifying image of his own face, streaked with blood and tears, eyes wide and wild with panic, and Jordan’s dark, malicious expression, mad rage in his eyes – but he didn’t think that was the answer Jordan wanted to hear._ __

_Problem was, he had no idea_ what _answer Jordan wanted to hear._

 _“I… I d-don’t… I…”_ __

_“What do you see?” Jordan repeated, raising his voice in warning and shaking Adam hard so that he gagged against the belt tight across his throat, gasping for breath. “Answer me!”_ __

_“I… please, I d-don’t… kn-know…”_ __

_“You see the pretty little pop star you think all those reporters and photographers see when they look at you, Adam? You think you’re too good for me, that_ they _think you’re too good for me?”_

 _Adam shook his head, shoulders shaking with broken sobs, though he couldn’t draw the breath even to plead for mercy._ __

_“You’re not, Adam. They don’t see that, anyway. They see the next tabloid disaster waiting to happen – the next_ monumental fuck-up _of yours that’s gonna make them a whole lot of money for their stories and pictures.” Jordan’s voice was low, harsh and vicious in Adam’s ear. “And you know what_ I _see when I look at you, Adam?”_

 _Adam shook his head, despairing, gasping for breath as Jordan tightened the belt around his throat._ __

_“I see a fat, disgusting little slut who’d say anything for just fifteen minutes more in the spotlight. A filthy little whore who’d say whatever he thinks they wanna hear for just a little bit of attention.”_ __

_Jordan’s free hand grabbed roughly at the collar of Adam’s button down shirt, tearing it open and sending buttons scattering to the floor as he forced Adam closer to the mirror, a cruel smirk twisting his mouth into an ugly sneer._ __

_“Look at yourself, Adam. You really think you’re worth their time without the terrible reputation you’ve built for yourself? You’re not.” His hand slid, rough and grasping and invasive, under Adam’s shirt, groping at the soft, vulnerable flesh around his hips and stomach as he leaned in closer, his whispered words dripping poison in Adam’s ear. “You’re_ disgusting _, Adam. Disgusting and pathetic in a way that all the make up on earth can’t hide.”_

 _Adam looked away, ashamed and devastated by the cruel words, but Jordan shook him hard, his voice a steely warning. “You keep looking ‘til I tell you to stop!”_ __

_Adam obeyed, too terrified to defy him, although in the wake of Jordan’s words, he couldn’t bear the sight of himself – humiliated and broken, his clothing rudely torn away to reveal the worst of his physical imperfections._ __

_“I could kill you right now, Adam,” Jordan hissed in his ear, winding the belt tighter around his fist, his smile widening at the frantic desperation in Adam’s pleading eyes. “I could choke the life out of you… make it look like an accident… erotic asphyxiation, maybe? Yeah… every tabloid in the country would buy it, because you’re just that kind of_ freak _, aren’t you, Adam?”_

 _Adam shook his head, silent sobs shaking his body as he mouthed words he couldn’t voice. “Please… please, no…”_ __

_“I won’t,” Jordan assured him softly, slowly easing his grip on the belt until at last Adam could draw in a ragged, sobbing breath. “I won’t kill you, Adam… and you know why?”_ __

_He released the belt completely, letting Adam go, and Adam collapsed forward onto his knees on the floor, catching himself on the table and gasping in deep draughts of the air that had been denied him, until Jordan demanded his attention by jerking on his hair and leaning in close again. Adam stared at him, scared to death that Jordan would think he wasn’t paying close enough attention, as Jordan gave him a cold, malicious smile and answered his own question._ __

_“Because you’re not worth it.”_ __

_Then, without another word, he released Adam and rose to his feet, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him._ __

_*************************************************_ __

“Adam? Adam, baby, what’s wrong?”

Kris’s gentle, urgent voice drew Adam from his memories, and he looked up, startled and a little confused to find himself back in the safety of Kris’s arms, on the sofa in his living room. Kris’s dark eyes were worried as he brushed his thumb across Adam’s cheek, wiping away a tear that Adam hadn’t realized had fallen. He blinked rapidly, looking away in self-conscious embarrassment and swiping quickly at his face.

“I… I’m sorry… I just…” He shook his head, unsure how to finish.

“You went away for a minute,” Kris offered softly, gently stroking Adam’s hair, trying to soothe him. “It’s all right. You’re safe, Adam.”

The warmth and reassurance in Kris’s voice, the affection and love Adam heard there, combined with his own shame and the humiliation of his memories, made it impossible for Adam to regain his composure. Fresh tears spilled from his eyes as he leaned into Kris’s embrace, allowing himself to be held as Kris rocked slowly back and forth on the sofa. After a few moments, Kris spoke up again, his voice halting and uncertain.

“Adam… did I… I mean… was it something that I said? Or… or did? What… what are you remembering?”

Adam remained silent, hot tears still streaking his face and running down to soak into the shoulder of Kris’s shirt. He knew the question that Kris was trying to voice – _Did I do something that caused this?_ – and he knew the answer – _Yes._ – but he couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud. Something about the way Kris had touched him – so softly and reverently, and on a part of himself that Adam had come to loathe – in combination with those tenderly uttered words that Adam couldn’t believe – _“You’re so beautiful…”_ – had taken Adam swiftly and violently back to that nightmare from his past, and the images still played over in his mind, indelible scars placed there by Jordan’s brutal, damaging words and actions.

When Kris said he was beautiful, all Adam could see was his own bruised face, streaked with make-up and sweat, blood and tears.

 _Ugly. Nothing_ beautiful _about that…_

“Adam… please talk to me,” Kris whispered, his lips brushing across Adam’s cheek as he held him closer. “Tell me what I said. _Please_.”

But Adam couldn’t bring himself to speak – because to speak the truth might be to shatter Kris’s illusions about him.

 _He thinks I’m beautiful – but he’s wrong. And if I tell him, then he’ll_ see _that he’s wrong... and I won’t be able to stand it when that happens…_

 _I have to hold onto this… to_ him _… for as long as I can._

So Adam just stayed there in silence, taking comfort from Kris’s solid, strong arms around him, and trying not to think about the fact that they would not always be there.


	45. Chapter 45

Kris found Adam’s sudden breakdown in the face of what he’d thought was a simple compliment… troubling, to say the least. And what was even more disturbing was Adam’s absolute refusal to explain why Kris’s adoring words had been so upsetting to him. These days, Adam’s painful memories seemed to pour forth freely, and when Kris least expected it.

A small, selfish part of him took a certain measure of relief in Adam’s silence – but he knew deep down that this was not a _good_ thing. Kris’s therapist said that Adam had been talking about the abuse because he needed to get it out, but also because he needed the reassurance that Kris would stay by his side no matter what horrible things Adam told him. The fact that Adam had found something in his darkest memories that he refused to share with Kris meant that he was afraid of Kris’s rejection once he heard it.

 _I wish he could understand that none of that was his fault… that there’s no way I could ever blame him for any of this… but I can’t push him. He has to tell me when he’s ready, not because he feels like he has to…_ __

Kris was grateful that at least Adam wasn’t rejecting his physical affection. In fact, Adam seemed more desperate for reassurance than ever, despite his silence – and Kris made sure to give it to him. He came home from the studio as early as he could, then spent the rest of the evening at Adam’s side, filling the silence with his own mindless babble about his day, or the new song he’d written, while holding Adam close to him on the couch, stroking his hair or gently rubbing his back.

“God, you’re so tense,” Kris observed as he ran his hand lightly over the taut, coiled muscles of Adam’s back through the soft fabric of his shirt. “You need to relax a little, babe.”

Adam let out a soft, hollow sort of laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. Fat chance of that. I’m pretty sure I’m just going to have to be one great big tense, achy knot until the day after the trial.”

Adam fell silent then, his eyes worried and distant, and Kris knew that he did not find much reassurance in the idea of the impending trial. Kris raised a gentle hand to massage slowly at the base of Adam’s neck, wishing that he could find the words to soothe his fears and make him believe that after the trial, he would finally be free.

Of course, Kris might have been more convincing if he was really sure _himself_ – but that was something he would leave to Adam’s lawyer.

 _Let him take care of Adam’s_ case _; I’ll just take care of Adam._

“You know what you could really use?” Kris suggested after a moment’s consideration. “One of those spa days you used to like so much.”

“Oh, _yeah_.” Adam let out a longing groan, his eyes momentarily lighting up as he turned toward Kris with a smile of happy memory. “I used to go to this place called _Nocturne_ … it’s this twenty-four-hour spa downtown. I never had time during the day so I’d end up going at like… ten o’clock at night.” Adam laughed, shaking his head. “It’s owned by a massage therapist named Monica. She’s a night owl like me, and she always worked that shift… she was _amazing_. I’d get the whole works done – hair, nails, massage – and I’d sleep like a baby when I finally got to bed those nights!”

Kris couldn’t help but smile, pleased and relieved to see Adam so animated for a change. “When was the last time you went?”

He immediately cursed his careless question as Adam’s smile fell away, and he bit his lower lip uneasily. “Jordan… decided he… didn’t like me going there. He said I was… trying to make myself look sexier for… for other guys.”

“ _What_ other guys?” Kris scoffed, unable to conceal his angry indignation. “He never let you go anywhere!”

“I know.” Adam shrugged, looking away self-consciously. “Anyway, it… it’s been a while.”

“Well… you could go _now_ ,” Kris pointed out softly, reaching out a gentle hand to rest on Adam’s leg. “No one’s stopping you.”

“Except for the horde of paparazzi camped outside your house,” Adam sighed, shaking his head in defeat. “I’ve pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I’m not going _anywhere_ for the next few days.”

Kris wanted to point out the fact that Adam hadn’t been anywhere in _weeks_ – but he was pretty sure that would be a decidedly unhelpful thing to say. He thought for a moment, trying to come up with a solution that would spare Adam the tension and trauma of an encounter with the greedy, insensitive paparazzi outside, and also give him a little bit of a break from the monotony of being cooped up inside all the time.

“But… if you _could_ go… you’d like to. Right?” Kris asked, his voice slightly guarded. He didn’t want to give away the surprise formulating in his mind, but he didn’t want to catch Adam completely off guard, either.

Adam’s head tilted slightly in a curious, vaguely suspicious expression, his eyes narrowed as he studied Kris’s face. His answer was slow and cautious as he finally admitted. “Yes… I guess I would. Why? What are you thinking?”

Kris just shook his head as he rose from the sofa, leaning in to press a tender, chaste kiss against Adam’s brow before replying dismissively, “Oh, nothing. Just… wondering. I’ll be right back. I’ve gotta make a phone call…”

********************************************

When the doorbell rang a couple of hours later, Adam had all but forgotten their earlier conversation.

They frequently had visitors these days – Adam’s mother, Brad, Danielle, or sometimes his attorney – but Adam still felt the familiar lurching sick feeling in the pit of his stomach at the sound of the doorbell. His hands felt shaky and damp, his mouth dry with fear, as Kris rose from the sofa to answer the door.

“It’s all right,” Kris assured him softly. “I’m expecting someone.”

Those words were almost enough to overwhelm Adam’s fears with curiosity, and he frowned, puzzled, rising to his feet to follow Kris toward the door.

“Who?” he asked as Kris peered through the peephole in the door. “Who are you expecting?”

Kris’s only answer was a sly smile as he unlocked the door and opened it, stepping aside to allow Adam to see who stood in the doorway.

“ _Monica_?” Adam’s voice was disbelieving, and he shook his head in confusion as the short, red-headed woman entered the foyer, taking just a moment to set down the large bag in her hand before she rushed forward without hesitation to envelope him in a warm hug. “What… how…?”

“Kris called and said my favorite customer was in need of a house call,” she explained, drawing back to hold him at arm’s length and smile up at him. “And, since it’s been literally years since you’ve been in… how could I resist?”

Adam’s face fell with the guilt that came over him, and he found himself stammering out soft, apologetic words. “I-I’m sorry. I just… I couldn’t…”

“Adam, honey…” Monica cut him off, her voice gentle and knowing, her dark eyes solemn with concern. “I watch the news, all right? I know.” She hugged him again, impulsively, before pulling back, her eyes smoldering with anger. “I’m just glad you finally kicked that asshole to the curb. I always hoped you would…”

Adam frowned, startled. “You… you _knew_?”

“I… _suspected_ ,” Monica admitted, nodding sadly. “I wish I’d said something to… _someone_. I don’t know… done _something_ to help you…”

“There was nothing you could have done,” Adam assured her with a regretful grimace. “If you’d asked me, I would have lied.”

“Wait a second,” Kris broke in as Monica finally moved away from Adam to pick up her bag from the floor – a giant, bright red suitcase that was half her size. “What signs did you see that something was wrong? Do you think you could testify to it in court?”

Adam’s face flushed with embarrassment, and he put out a tentative, halting hand to rest on Kris’s arm.

“Kris…”

But Monica didn’t seem to mind. “The last few times Adam came in, there were bruises. His face… neck… and he started wearing only long sleeves. I figured I knew why, but… but I was afraid if I pushed it, he might not come back at all. And…” She sighed, shaking her head. “… we can all see how well _that_ logic worked out.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Adam insisted.

He couldn’t help feeling awkward and self-conscious in the face of her regret. He’d thought he was hiding it all so well, back then. Jordan had made it clear what would happen if anyone found out the truth about their relationship, and Adam had done his best to keep up his façade of a happy, glamorous life, hiding the marks of his suffering behind big sunglasses and heavy make-up… stylish scarves and long-sleeved jackets.

He hadn’t thought that anyone had seen the truth behind his mask.

“I’m not sure how much that will help,” Monica continued, thoughtful. “But I’ll testify if you need me to. Anything to get that bastard put behind bars for as long as possible.”

“Thank you so much!” Kris’s face broke out in an eager grin as he grabbed Monica’s hand in both of his in a spontaneous gesture of gratitude. “We need every witness we can get.”

Monica frowned, glancing between them with confusion. “Aren’t there other witnesses? Surely I’m not the only one... What about the people who work for you, Adam?”

“They’re all in Jordan’s pocket,” Kris spoke up, his disgust clear in his voice. “I don’t know if he’s paying them off or threatening them or what, but they’ve all denied ever seeing any signs of abuse.”

“Oh.” Monica bit her lip, a worried expression on her face. “That’s… not helpful.”

“No,” Kris agreed, shaking his head. “But if we can get a few people to come forward – like you – and tell what they’ve seen… along with the doctor’s report on Adam’s injuries, and Adam’s and my testimony… we should have a strong enough case to get Jordan put away.” A slightly awkward silence descended for a moment before Kris shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself and continuing, “But you’re not here to talk about the case. You’re here to do your job, right? Get Adam feeling all relaxed and pampered again?”

Monica nodded, her eyes gleaming with anticipation as she lifted the huge suitcase in both of her hands and asked, “Where do you want me to set up?”

After a brief discussion, they decided on the guest bedroom where Adam had been staying. Of course, he was no longer sleeping there, not since he and Kris had decided to officially become an item. Adam now slept in Kris’s bed with him, though they had yet to go any further than some cautious, gentle making out.

 _And who knows how long it’ll be before he gets too frustrated to put up with_ that _anymore?_ Adam felt a queasy sensation in the pit of his stomach, and swallowed hard, fighting it back. _But don’t think about that right now. This is just what you need…_

At this point, the guest bedroom was the perfect place for Monica to turn into a temporary spa. She laid out the soft, expensive sheets she’d brought on the mattress, setting out her array of various massage oils, lotions, nail polishes and hair products on the dresser top so that everything she needed was within her reach. Adam hesitated in the doorway before reaching for the dimmer switch and turning the lights down to a soft glow that he hoped would still provide her enough light to work with.

Most of his bruises had faded by this point – but he was not taking any chances.

 _Not to mention the scars…_ Adam felt his skin grow heated with shame. _You didn’t have those the last time she worked on you…_

When Monica looked up at him in mild surprise, he swallowed hard. “I-is this okay?” he asked uncertainly. “The lights? I just thought… um… it’s more relaxing, right?”

Monica gave him a reassuring smile as she beckoned him toward the bed. “Whatever’s most relaxing for you, honey,” she replied. “Now, I’ll leave you alone for a bit to get comfortable, and then I’ll come back, all right?”

Adam nodded as she slipped past him, closing the door behind her. She was barely out when a soft knock sounded, and Adam turned just as Kris peeked around the doorway. Adam smiled weakly, nodding for him to enter, so Kris opened the door and slid past it, closing it quietly again before approaching Adam’s side.

“You all right?” he asked, concern in his questioning eyes as they searched Adam’s face for the answers he might not dare to speak. “I… I wanted to surprise you, but… if you’re not okay with this…”

“No,” Adam insisted, shaking his head. “No, this is… _wonderful_.” There was real sincerity in his voice. “I just… it’s been a long time since I’ve had… I mean… since anyone’s…”

Kris’s smile faded into sad understanding, and Adam closed his eyes as Kris raised a gentle hand to cup his cheek. “Since you’ve been able to just relax and let someone else make you feel good?” he offered softly. “Since anyone’s just taken care of _you_ for a change?”

Adam swallowed hard, nodding, his voice hoarse and uncertain when he ventured, “S-something like that.”

Kris rose up on his toes to press a feather light kiss to Adam’s cheek. “Just enjoy it, darlin’,” he murmured. “And while she’s doing what she does best, just keep telling yourself… you _deserve_ to feel good. To feel… _special_ , and cared for… You _deserve_ this, Adam… and so much more.”

Adam felt his throat close up a little, and a hot, stinging sensation behind his eyes – but he wasn’t so sure about the truth of Kris’s words. Still, he nodded in at least outward acceptance of them.

“Do you want me to stay?” Kris offered softly. “’Cause I can, if…”

“No,” Adam assured him. “I’ll be fine. I trust Monica. She’s… she’s a friend. I’ll be fine, just… go do whatever you want to do… and Kris…”

Kris looked up at Adam expectantly, a warm smile on his lips.

“Thank you,” Adam whispered. “This is so… just… _thank you_.”

Once Kris left, Adam had only a few minutes to change out of his clothes and lie down between the soft, satiny sheets Monica had placed on the bed. In the past, Adam would have shamelessly stripped down to nothing before a massage like this; now, he left on his underwear and the sleeveless undershirt he wore, hoping to disguise the worst of his scars.

If Monica noticed the difference, she didn’t say anything.

She set to work, soothing the aching tension from his shoulders first, and gradually working her way down, until Adam began to forget his self-consciousness and uncertainty… his doubts and fears about the near future… and simply lose himself in sweet sensation.


	46. Chapter 46

By the time Monica was finished with his massage, Adam couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed and at ease. The sweet fragrance of the lavender oil she’d used, and the slow, soothing touch of her skilled hands had taken him to a peaceful place he’d long since forgotten. It was a welcome and necessary reminder for Adam of that fact that touch could heal as well as it could break and destroy.

After the massage, Monica got out an array of nail polishes with which she presented him, all dark, metallic shades to which he was usually drawn. She took her time with his manicure and pedicure, including hand and foot massages and every little added touch in her extensive repertoire.

“I don’t even wanna think about how much this is gonna cost,” he groaned, letting his head fall back against the chair and closing his eyes with a grimace of comical dread. “Kris, not me, too. Because it’s not like I’ve even got access to much of my money at the moment…”

“Please.” Monica waved a dramatically dismissive hand. “Honey, this is my gift to you. My welcome home gift, because it sounds like you’re just getting back after a very long time away.”

Adam met her eyes for a moment before looking away, a little overwhelmed by the knowing warmth in her expression and in her words.

“But so you know… Kris doesn’t know that yet,” she informed him, and when he looked up at her in surprise, there was a conspiratorial smile on her face. “He offered to hire me out for the day, and I agreed – so he doesn’t know yet that this is on the house. And he told me to spare no expense, give you anything you asked for.” She winked as Adam’s mouth fell open in amazement. “He’s a keeper, this one. I can tell.”

Adam couldn’t help the warm flush that rose to his cheeks at her words, or the smile that broke out on his face. “He’s so good to me,” he confessed softly. “I don’t know what I did…”

“Hush.” Monica’s voice was stern but gentle as she caught his gaze, a single brow raised. “Don’t even go there, sweetie. You _deserve_ this.”

Adam wasn’t so sure about that – but he was more than happy to fill Monica in on just exactly how lucky he was to have Kris in his life. As she worked on his nails, then administered a soothing facial followed by a complete make-up application, and finally colored, cut and styled his hair, Adam happily went on and on about Kris – from everything he’d done to help Adam escape his former life, to the little everyday things he did to show his affection. When Monica was finally finished, she turned Adam’s chair so that he was facing the mirror, and his words broke off mid-sentence as he stared at the finished result of her efforts.

His hair was shorter than it’d been since he’d been with Jordan – full and spiked at artistically random places on top, but shorter on the sides – and his make-up was subtly dramatic, all dark shadows with a hint of shimmer, and lips that shone just a little in the light. But there was something else, something beyond the mere physical, which caught Adam off guard when he looked in the mirror.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he found that he could look himself in the eye, without feeling that overwhelming sense of shame and disgust, and without seeing the terror that had become his constant companion staring back at him in his own eyes.

“You’ve never looked so stunning, darling,” Monica grinned, leaning in to meet his eyes in the mirror, and Adam couldn’t help but return her beaming smile. “Let’s go show that man of yours what he _thinks_ he’s paying for.”

As they made their way down the stairs to where Kris was waiting in the living room, Adam was surprised and a little embarrassed by the nervous fluttering in his stomach in anticipation of Kris’s reaction. A dark, taunting voice echoed in the back of his thoughts, familiar and mocking.

 _Please. One makeover doesn’t change anything. You’re no teenager, and this isn’t prom night. You’re not going to take his breath away…_ __

The soft but audible intake of breath Adam heard as he reached the foot of the stairs seemed to belie that thought, as Kris rose thoughtlessly to his feet, his dark eyes wide with wonder as he took in the sight of his boyfriend with a slow, wondering gaze. Adam found himself looking away with a shy, self-conscious smile from the sheer intensity of Kris’s eyes, as wonder slowly gave way to a dark, smoldering desire.

“Adam… you…. you look…” Kris’s voice trailed off, and he shook his head, momentarily at a loss, as Adam reached him.

“You like?” Adam asked, hesitant and a little uncertain, barely able to believe it, though the unmistakable appreciation on Kris’s face made the question unnecessary.

Kris nodded slowly, his hands reaching out to touch Adam’s arms, sliding slowly up and down as he drew Adam close. The unusually low, hushed sound of Kris’s voice, filled with obvious desire, sent a little shiver through Adam when he replied at last.

“You’re… the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, Adam. Really. You look… amazing.”

Adam felt a warm, pleased flush creep over his face, and he couldn’t help beaming with pride, though he couldn’t quite meet Kris’s eyes. He had gotten so used to being torn down, insulted, accused and threatened whenever he’d tried to look his best, that Kris’s gentle admiration felt strange and unfamiliar, and he wasn’t quite sure how to react.

A moment later, however, he didn’t have to figure it out anymore, as Kris rose up on his toes, one hand at the back of Adam’s neck and pulling him down into a soft, tender kiss. Adam melted into it, slipping his arms around Kris and drawing him nearer, until when they finally parted, both were more than a little breathless. Kris’s eyes were shining as he stared up at Adam for a moment before clearing his throat and looking at Monica, who was deliberately ignoring them, arranging her things in her case in preparation to leave.

“So, um… how much do I owe you?” Kris asked. “Because if it’s what it’s worth, I’m not sure I can afford it.”

Monica smiled. “It’s on the house, Kris.”

Kris stared at her in dismay. “What? No…”

“ _Yes_ ,” she insisted, her voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “It’s my gift to you and Adam.” Kris opened his mouth to protest further, but she cut him off with a teasing smirk. “Besides, now that I have my favorite customer back, I’m sure I’ll be taking plenty of your money in the future. Call it an investment if you like. Whatever you want to call it – I’m not taking your money tonight, Kris Allen.”

Kris relented, giving her a warm smile. “Thanks so much. You’re amazing.” He turned his slightly starstruck gaze back toward Adam, but continued to speak to Monica. “Now, if you don’t mind… I hate to be rude, but… could you excuse us? I’ll call you tomorrow about… the trial and all, but, for now… I kinda just wanna… mess up this perfect makeup job you just did.”

“I’m gone,” Monica laughed, hoisting her suitcase and heading toward the door. “I’ll talk to you two tomorrow.”

The moment she was out of sight, Kris leaned his head against Adam’s chest and laughed softly with embarrassment. “I can’t believe I just said that,” he groaned.

“Neither can I,” Adam laughed, but his heart was racing, and his expression slowly became serious as Kris looked up at him again. “It was fuckin’ _hot_.”

Kris stared up at him for a long moment, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak, but wasn’t quite sure what to say. Finally, he swallowed, tongue darting out to moisten his lips, while his hand fisted in the side of Adam’s shirt and tugged him toward the couch.

“ _Come here_ …” he growled, his voice low and hoarse with need.

Adam eagerly complied, stumbling as Kris backed into the sofa and sat down, pulling Adam down with him. Adam caught himself on his knees and one arm, attempting to hold the bulk of his weight up off of Kris, but Kris pulled him close until they were lying together on the sofa, limbs entwined, their faces bare inches apart.

“You’re so gorgeous, Adam,” Kris whispered, eyes wide and wondering as he ran a gentle, cautious hand through the longer hair on the top of Adam’s head, then lowered his hand to cup the back of Adam’s neck. “So… amazing. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Adam bit his lower lip, feeling a tremor pass through him as he lowered his face against Kris’s chest, momentarily unable to find words – because he had been thinking exactly the same thing. He didn’t know what Kris saw in him, why Kris wanted him when all he’d brought into Kris’s life was drama and fear and turmoil. He didn’t understand why Kris was willing to put up with it all, when he could have had anyone he wanted, without all the difficulty that Adam brought along with him. And most of all, he couldn’t understand how Kris could not see how wonderful he was, and how lucky Adam was to have found him – if only for a little while.

He wanted to find a way to express all of this, but he couldn’t find the words.

And then… he did.

“I love you,” he breathed out against Kris’s shirt. “I love you…”

Immediately he went still, his heart lurching, and he cringed, hoping that Kris hadn’t heard the words, muffled as they were against the soft cotton that separated them. But when Kris’s hand on his back stilled as well, and Adam heard the soft intake of breath above his head, his heart sank. He braced himself for the awkward, stumbling response, Kris’s attempt to make this okay without lying. If there was one thing Kris was, it was honest, and Adam knew Kris wouldn’t say the words back just to say them, if he didn’t mean them, and he _couldn’t_ mean them, not so soon, not with all Adam’s baggage and all that was still unresolved between them…

“Adam…”

Adam swallowed hard, reluctantly raising his head as Kris’s soft, gentle voice broke through the panicked din of his thoughts. He looked up at Kris, his eyes wide and fearful, steeling himself to accept the hurt and humiliation he knew was coming – but what he saw on Kris’s face made him freeze, barely daring to hope. Kris smiled at him, grateful tears shining in his eyes as he whispered his response, barely more than a breath.

“… I love you, too. So, _so much_.”

Adam felt his shoulders begin to shake with sheer relief, and he wrapped his arms around Kris, clinging to him, holding him close as he leaned in to press a deep, needy kiss against his lips, relieved and reassured when Kris returned the kiss, his lips parted and yielding to Adam’s advance. Encouraged, Adam rose up a little higher along Kris’s body, deepening the kiss and allowing one hand to explore, making its way slowly down Kris’s side toward his hip.

Kris reached down blindly to catch his hand, intertwining his fingers with Adam’s and stopping their progress by drawing his hand up to his own lips and kissing it softly. It was a gesture that at any other time Adam might have found unbearably corny and ridiculous – but right now, it seemed nothing less than utterly romantic, as Kris’s dark eyes locked onto his, smoldering with a heat and intensity that made it impossible for Adam to doubt his desire.

“We can wait,” Kris assured him gently. “You don’t have to…”

“No, I… I _want_ to…” Adam whispered – but he winced slightly at the hesitation he could hear in his own voice.

It wasn’t _exactly_ a lie. He wanted to make Kris happy, but he still wasn’t quite ready. Any time he and Kris tried to take things further, physically, Adam couldn’t get far without remembering the brutal ways in which Jordan had used him, tying him down and forcing him to do things he never would have wanted to do…

A shiver trickled down Adam’s spine, and Kris ran his free hand gently down Adam’s back, soothing and reassuring. “No, you don’t,” he observed, his voice gently knowing. “And that’s okay. Adam, look at me.” He waited until Adam reluctantly complied to continue, holding his gaze as he pressed the back of his hand, still clasping Adam’s, against Adam’s cheek. “It’s enough for me that you… that you _told_ me… I’ve wanted to say it for… for weeks now, and… and I was just… scared, I guess. I… wasn’t sure you… you felt the same way, and… Adam, I can wait as long as you need… I can wait forever if I just know that you _love_ me…”

“God, Kris…” Adam shook his head in disbelief, his voice hushed and almost reverent, barely able to speak, his words heavy and trembling with emotion. “How could I _not_?”

Kris’s expression softened with affection, and his free hand pulled Adam close for another kiss before drawing back to meet his eyes again.

“You’re so amazing, Adam. You don’t see it now,” he whispered, shaking his head slightly. “But sooner or later… someday… I’m gonna make you see: _I’m_ getting the better end of this deal.”

Adam knew that wasn’t possible – but it only made him love Kris more, his heart soaring with gratitude for something he’d never dreamed was possible.

 _He said he loves you… and that must mean he really means it. No matter what you’ve told him, how much he’s seen and heard about you and Jordan… he still loves you._ __

_Of course… he hasn’t heard_ everything _… and… and you haven’t_ given _him everything… not yet._

Adam closed his eyes, relaxing against Kris and snuggling in, wanting to be as close to him as possible. His hands trailed slowly up and down, one at Kris’s side and the other in his hair – as if trying to reassure himself that this was _real_ , that Kris was really _here_ , with him.

 _Loving_ him.

 _He deserves more than what you’ve been giving…_ __

Through his gratitude and relief, the single thought resounded, and Adam made a silent resolve.

 _… and you’re going to have to give him what he deserves. He loves you, and he said he’ll wait, but… no matter what he says… what he_ thinks _he’s willing to do…_

 _…he’s not going to wait forever._


	47. Chapter 47

“I think it’s a good thing. I… it _feels_ like a good thing…”

Dr. Harlin smiled across her desk at Kris with a knowing lift of one eyebrow. “Well, I’m sure it would, to you.”

Kris felt a warm blush creeping over his face, and he nodded in acknowledgement. “I’ve… I’ve wanted to say it myself for a while, but… I didn’t want to make him feel pressured, you know?”

She nodded her approval. “You were right to wait and let him say it first. And I think you’re right that it’s a good thing, too. At any rate, it’s a very good sign that Adam’s able to open up that much – to trust you with something like that, that you could easily use against him. He’s allowing himself to be vulnerable to you. He’s beginning to place his trust in someone again, and that’s a very big step, Kris.”

“I know.”

Despite his agreement, Kris couldn’t quite keep a note of disappointment from his voice – and his therapist quickly picked up on it.

“But…?”

“But… I’m not really sure that he _does_ trust me. Not really. He…” Kris swallowed hard, his face flaming, as he struggled to get the words out. “He… he’ll barely let me touch him,” he confessed at last, his voice hushed and trembling.

Dr. Harlin frowned in confusion. “I thought you said last week that Adam’s been _more_ physically affectionate lately…”

Kris looked away, biting his lower lip as his embarrassment intensified. “That’s, um… not exactly what I’m talking about.” He frowned, considering. “Or… maybe it is, sort of.” Dr. Harlin remained quiet, waiting for him to go on, so he thought for a moment before venturing to try to explain. “It’s just that… I’m glad he’s able to… to take comfort from me and all, but… in a way, it just makes things harder.”

“Harder, how?”

“Harder… knowing that it can only go so far. He has… no idea what he does to me… how… attracted to him I am, and… and it’s so frustrating, knowing that… it can only go so far. I would never hurt him, and I think he knows that, on some level, but… any time things go even a little bit past like… making out… Adam freaks out.”

“Do you blame him, really?” she countered, though her expression was sympathetic. “The last person he gave that kind of trust to – the last person who touched him with that level of intimacy – used that intimacy to physically and emotionally assault him. Jordan violated his trust, and took advantage of it and used it to hurt him. It’s only natural that he’d hesitate to give you that kind of liberty with his body – because the last person he gave that liberty to, _took_ all of _his_. Stripped him of his power over himself and turned him into a virtual slave. You should expect that it’ll take him a while to get to the point where he’s willing to take that chance again.”

“What can I do?” Kris asked softly, shaking his head slightly, at a loss. “How can I help him to… to get there?”

“First of all, don’t rush him,” she advised. “Don’t ever push him to go beyond what he’s comfortable with. Make sure that any time the two of you _do_ have a sexual encounter of any kind, it’s on his terms, and only to the point that he’s willing for it to go. The thing to keep in mind in those situations, Kris, is this: let him have the power. Let him control the pace – physically and emotionally – and gradually, he’ll get braver and more willing to let his guard down.”

Kris nodded, biting his lip with a pensive frown. “Okay,” he replied after a moment. “Okay, I can do that.”

Dr. Harlin was looking at her watch, so Kris glanced at the clock on the wall behind her, surprised to see that his session had gone ten minutes over. He rose to his feet, reaching across the desk to shake her hand before heading toward the door.

“See you next week.”

**************************************

“That’s great. Uh huh. Yeah, I’ll call you tomorrow. Thanks so much for calling.”

Kris replaced the telephone receiver in its cradle on the nightstand as Adam knocked softly on the bedroom door, before pushing it open and slipping inside. Kris gave his boyfriend a warm, welcoming smile, scooting over a little on the mattress to make room for him to sit down.

“That was the prosecutor’s office,” he informed Adam with a satisfied smile. “Monica met with her today, and she’s going to testify.”

Adam frowned slightly as he slid closer to Kris, reaching out a casually affectionate hand to rest on his leg. “Really? I didn’t think she’d have that much to say. I mean, she had suspicions, but… as far as actual _evidence_ …”

“She can testify as to the changes she noticed in your appearance, the way you suddenly stopped getting the massages, and started wearing only long sleeves and stuff,” Kris pointed out, absently wrapping his arm around Adam’s shoulders as he leaned his head on Kris’s shoulder. “And she can testify about the changes in your… mental state… over those last few months, before…”

Kris couldn’t find quite the right words to finish that thought. Anything that came to mind seemed too harsh and hurtful, and would only serve to remind Adam of the time when he’d had a choice, and cause him to blame himself again for making the wrong one.

It was already too late.

Adam abruptly sat up straight, averting his gaze, his shoulders growing taut under Kris’s arm as he pulled away. Kris cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“Anyway.  The prosecutor thinks her testimony can help.”

“Good.”  Adam glanced up at Kris for a moment as he rose to his feet, then looked away again as he made his way around to the other side of the bed. As he went, he shed his t-shirt, leaving himself clad only in a loose, comfortable pair of pajama pants when he pulled the blankets back.  “Can we… talk about it tomorrow, maybe? Right now I just… I just need to get some sleep.”

Kris forced a smile, not wanting to upset Adam any further. “Of course.” 

He reached across the nightstand and turned out the light, then lay down behind Adam, shifting closer until his chest was flush against Adam’s back.

They were both nervous, with the trial just a few days away. Kris had barely had time to think during the past week, he’d been so busy – making phone calls back and forth with the prosecutor’s office, and Monica, and many of Adam’s friends, trying to find anyone who might have any information that could help their case, and make arrangements for them to testify – but Kris didn’t mind. He found that the distraction helped him to keep his nerves at bay.

Adam, on the other hand, seemed to have slipped into a state of uneasy denial. He pretended that everything was normal, doing his best to ignore the preparations Kris was making, and to avoid any discussion of the trial at all. Kris found himself becoming frustrated with Adam’s attitude about the whole thing, but told himself frequently that it was just Adam’s way of coping with an unbearably stressful situation.

 _If_ I’m _nervous_ , Kris reminded himself. _He must be_ terrified.

Kris tentatively reached out to drape his arm across Adam’s waist, pressing a single soft kiss against Adam’s bare shoulder. He was more than a little relieved when Adam leaned back into the gentle contact, then turned over to face Kris, reaching out a hand to run slowly up and down Kris’s arm. He still wouldn’t quite make eye contact, but Kris was determined to pull him out of the dark turn his thoughts had taken. He lowered his head, resting it against Adam’s shoulder and just breathing him in.

When Kris felt Adam’s lips against his throat in a gentle, tentative kiss, he tilted his head to the side to allow him better access, a quiet hum of approval low in his throat. Adam responded to the encouragement by kissing him again, his hands beginning a slow, cautious exploration under the hem of Kris’s t-shirt.

 _Let him take the lead,_ Kris reminded himself, though his thoughts were a little hazy at the moment. _Whatever he wants to do… don’t stop him, but don’t push him…_

When Adam raised trembling but firm hands to his shoulders and gently pushed downward, Kris did not resist, allowing Adam to guide him onto his back on the bed. Adam’s mouth sought his again in a slow, languid kiss, and Kris yielded to it, his lips parting to allow Adam entrance. As Adam’s hands slid over his body – slow, worshipful and unhurried – Kris returned his affection with light, cautious touches, his hands ghosting over the soft, smooth skin of Adam’s shoulders, sides, stomach, and then coming to rest over his hips, barely touching at all.

Adam’s hands, in contrast, were beginning to move with more confidence. The hand tracing the hem of Kris’s shirt dipped lower, Adam’s fingers teasing just under the waist of Kris’s sweat pants. Kris’s breath caught in his throat as a delighted little shiver ran through him, and he instinctively pulled Adam closer, allowing his reservations to begin to slip away in the face of Adam’s new-found confidence.

 _This is good. He’s starting to feel comfortable enough to let me know exactly what he wants and go for it…_

Adam’s hands took hold of the bottom of Kris’s shirt and pushed it up, and Kris raised his arms so that Adam could pull it off over his head. Once it was off, Adam pulled Kris closer to him, and Kris felt a rush of arousal at the sudden – and rare – skin-to-skin contact. One hand cupped the back of Adam’s head, pulling him into a deeper kiss, while the other trailed up and down the smooth, bare skin of Adam’s back.

Kris nearly lost his breath when Adam’s hand slid down between them, down past the loose waist of Kris’s pants to palm Kris’s suddenly very hard, very demanding cock. Adam rotated his hand in a firm, slow circle through the damp cotton that still covered Kris, and Kris couldn’t help thrusting forward against Adam’s hand, any more than he could help the low, hoarse moan that escaped his lips.

“A- _Adam_ …”

Kris felt the deep shudder that ran through Adam’s body when he spoke, and opened his eyes to search Adam’s face, but Adam was kissing a path downward from Kris’s shoulder to his chest, seemingly lost in the moment – and Kris realized with relief that it had not been a reaction of fear, but of an entirely different emotion. Kris ran an affectionate, caressing hand through Adam’s hair, and Adam raised his head, eyes darkened with arousal. When he spoke, his voice was low and far more commanding than Kris had become used to hearing him.

“Take these off.”

Kris froze, staring up at Adam in disbelief. After a moment, he remembered to breathe, shaking his head slightly as he asked in a voice that was shaky but solemn, “Adam… are… are you _sure_?”

He tried to meet Adam’s eyes, to see what Adam was really thinking and feeling in that moment, but Adam answered his question with a fierce kiss, claiming Kris’s mouth and only drawing back when Kris was too breathless to offer any further protest.

“Please,” Adam whispered, pulling back a little, his head resting for a moment against Kris’s chest, “take them off.” 

Even as he spoke, he was reaching for the nightstand, pulling the drawer open and rummaging around inside.

Kris hesitated, torn between the desire for something he’d wanted and been denied for far too long – and the fear of pushing Adam past his own boundaries. Every time they’d tried going this far in the past, Adam had ended up frantically pleading for them to stop, too consumed by the agony of his memories to find any pleasure in the encounter. It seemed – too _easy_ , somehow – that Adam was now all but demanding that they take things further than they’d ever gone.

 _Why is he doing this? Because he thinks he has to? Maybe I should stop him…_

 _But Dr. Harlin said I should let_ him _set the pace. Maybe he’s acting like he’s ready because… he actually_ is _ready. What good is all my talk about wanting to help him make his own decisions if I don’t_ trust _those decisions when he makes them?_

His hands were moving toward his pajama pants when Adam abruptly went rigid above him, and Kris looked up at his face with concern, his heart sinking, already certain that this was the moment when Adam would change his mind.

Before he could make eye contact, however, Adam was backpedaling off the bed, so hurriedly that he fell off onto the floor.  There was a metallic clink and a thud as Adam scrambled frantically to his feet, backing up until he was nearly against the wall.  He was staring in horror at something on the floor, on the verge of panic as he demanded, “What _are_ those, Kris?”

Kris felt a cold, sick sensation wash over him as he realized what Adam had found. He didn’t have to look at the spot where Adam’s horrified attention was focused to know what he was looking at: a pair of shiny, silver handcuffs.

“They’re… handcuffs…” Kris cringed at his own spectacularly stupid and unhelpful response, struggling to bring his thoughts back under control enough to formulate a good explanation.

“I _know_ that!” Adam snapped, his voice trembling with fury, his eyes wide and terrified as he took another backward step when Kris got up from the bed. “Why do you _have_ them? What are you going to do with them, Kris?”

Kris frowned, troubled by Adam’s choice of words. “ _Nothing_!” he insisted as he rose from the bed and took a cautious step toward Adam.

“Don’t you come any closer to me!” Adam’s voice rose with panic, and he backed up again, his back hitting the wall this time. He flinched at the impact, holding up his hands in front of him in a defensive posture. “You… you had these just… just _waiting_ so that you could… could…”

“Adam!” Kris interrupted desperately, holding up his own hands in a gesture of surrender. “Adam, please… just let me explain…”

Adam shook his head, his eyes filled with frightened tears, pressing back against the wall behind him. “I d-don’t want to hear it…”

“Adam…” Kris struggled to find the right words to explain – a task made even more difficult by the fact that at the moment, he was finding it difficult to form a coherent thought. Adam had already drawn his conclusions, and Kris was still trying to catch up with what had just happened. “Adam… they’re for _me_ , okay?” Kris finally blurted out.

Adam went silent, staring at him in startled confusion.

Kris looked away, lowering his head in embarrassment and running a shaky hand through his hair before he looked up to meet Adam’s eyes and repeated, “They were for me. I would never…” He paused, shaking his head, his voice soft with sorrow. “I wasn’t going to put those on you. Adam, I swear I would _never_.”

Adam frowned, shaking his head slightly in confusion, but he slowly lowered his hands. He was still shaking visibly, his eyes shining with tears, even from across the room, as he whispered, “I… I don’t understand…”

“I just thought…” Kris hesitated over his words, running one hand down over his face, which was flushed with rising embarrassment. Now that he tried to put it into words, the whole idea seemed so totally stupid. “I thought maybe… if we tried something so that… so that _you_ were totally in control, and I was… at _your_ mercy, then… then maybe… you’d feel… _safer_ , that’s all. You’d… know that no one could hurt you, and… and I thought maybe… maybe that would make you more comfortable with… you know…”

When Kris finally ventured to look up at Adam, the expression on his face was one of incredulous disbelief. He stepped away from the wall, staring down at the handcuffs on the floor again for a moment before meeting Kris’s eyes and slowly shaking his head. When he finally managed to find his voice, only a single word fell from his lips.

“ _Seriously_?”

“I know.” Kris cringed. “It’s stupid. I… I knew it was stupid as soon as I got them home from the store and took them out of the box. I… I just stuck them in the drawer and… and I was gonna get rid of them, but… I kinda… forgot they were there…” Kris met Adam’s eyes, his expression one of guilt and regret. “I’m so sorry, Adam. I didn’t mean to… for this to… I’m sorry.”

Adam swallowed hard, his eyes downcast as he slowly processed Kris’s explanation. “I… I guess you… you didn’t… _mean_ to…” His tone carried a note of tremulous relief, but it was also reluctant… _guarded_ … and Kris’s heart sank when he thought of the damage this incident might have caused to Adam’s fragile trust in him.

“It was stupid,” Kris insisted. “Totally my fault.”

Adam considered it for a moment before rationalizing weakly, “You were just… trying to make me… more comfortable, being with you. I… I get that… I guess.”

He still didn’t sound quite certain, but his shoulders relaxed slightly with his words, as if he was beginning to actually believe them – and the hints of forgiveness in his words and actions only intensified Kris’s guilt.

“Oh, well, good.” Kris’s tone was flat, touched with a subtle note of self-accusation as he added, “Glad you see it that way. Because you know, a lot of guys would have thought I was just trying to _get laid_.”

When Adam flinched slightly at those words, Kris’s heart sank with the realization that they’d been, once again, very poorly chosen. Kris had meant to draw attention to his own fault in the matter, but it seemed that Adam had read in his words an entirely different message. His shoulders fell, and he sank down to the floor, drawing his knees up in front of him and burying his head in them for a moment. He drew in a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself, before looking up at Kris again, defeat in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Adam whispered. “I… I know it’s a lot to ask of you, to… to wait, so long. I… every time I think I can handle it, it just… falls apart, and… and I understand. You’re just… looking for ways to make this work, and I… I’m not making it any easier for you.”

“Adam…” Kris rose from the bed, taking a cautious step forward – then continuing when Adam did not react to his advance. “Adam, this is _not_ your fault. Sure, I wish we could… do more, but… but I told you I’m willing to wait, and I meant it…”

“Clearly,” Adam pointed out, gesturing toward the discarded handcuffs. “You didn’t.”

Kris winced as he sat down beside Adam, venturing to reach out a gentle hand to rest on his knee. “I’m sorry, Adam,” he repeated softly. “I just… I want to be with you, and… and I guess I _was_ … trying to find a way to… to hurry things up a little. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. I just… want to find a way to help you not be afraid anymore.”

Adam’s jaw set, and he looked away, struggling to control his emotions. When at last he spoke, his voice was carefully low and measured. “Trust me,” he stated quietly. “Handcuffs… not the way to go.”

Kris was silent for a moment, feeling sick to his stomach at the implications of Adam’s words. “I’m sorry,” he repeated softly at last.

“It’s… not your fault.” Adam’s voice was halting, a little shaky, but with a dangerous edge to it that Kris couldn’t quite define. “Not really. You couldn’t have known about… about…all the things he… the things _we_ …” He struggled to go on for a moment before turning his head away, his jaw set with wounded frustration.

Kris could tell that this was very difficult for Adam to talk about – and he had a feeling it would not be much easier for him to hear. “Adam, you don’t… you don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do,” Adam insisted, his words sharp, despite his quiet, tearful tone. “I have to… because… there are some things that you need to know.”


	48. Chapter 48

“There are some things that you need to know… about me.”

Something in Adam’s tone wasn’t quite right.

Kris could hear the note of bitter resentment there, and knew that whatever Adam was about to tell him, it wasn’t really something he _wanted_ to talk about. Adam’s eyes were locked onto the floor, glittering with angry tears, his jaw set with stubborn determination.

“Adam, I’m sorry,” Kris broke in quietly. “I screwed up, okay? I know that. But… you don’t have to talk about any of this if you don’t want to…”

“That’s how Jordan liked me best, you know.”

Kris blinked, confused by the words, trying to fit them into the context of what he’d just said. “How?” He frowned, shaking his head slightly. “What…?”

Adam swallowed hard, his eyes focused on the floor at his feet. “Tied up.” He hesitated, his voice barely over a harsh whisper when he concluded. “ _Helpless_.”

Kris was quiet for a moment, sickened by the revelation, although from Adam’s reaction to the handcuffs, he’d already suspected as much. After a moment he ventured to speak softly.

“He… he used handcuffs like these?” Kris gestured toward the discarded handcuffs, feeling a hot, angry sensation coiling in his chest.

Adam nodded, biting his lower lip, his eyes carefully averted, his voice a little too well-controlled. “Or… or his belt. Or… anything else that happened to be handy.” A cold, bitter smile formed on Adam’s lips, and his soft words sent a shiver down Kris’s spine. “He could be very… _creative_.”

Even through the anger in Adam’s voice, the stark pain that was beneath it was obvious – raw and open, setting a deep ache in Kris’s chest. He wanted to reach out to Adam, to offer him some form of comfort, although he knew anything he could offer would certainly be inadequate; but the taut, closed off posture Adam had assumed – his knees drawn up close, his arms wrapped tightly around them, his face turned away to keep Kris from reading his eyes – made it perfectly clear that any such gesture would not be welcome at the moment.

So, Kris kept his hands and his words to himself and simply waited for Adam to go on.

“That’s what was most important to Jordan – power. Being… in control. He liked knowing that… that he could do anything he wanted to me, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

Kris’s jaw worked with repressed rage as he struggled to keep his emotions at bay, unwilling to further upset Adam by showing how deeply outraged he was by his revelation. When he felt that he could control his voice enough to speak, he finally ventured a leading question.

“He… he ignored you when you asked him to stop?”

That unsettlingly lifeless, bitter smile wavered on Adam’s lips, as he let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, rolling his eyes before giving Kris a challenging look, his eyes glittering with tears.

“What makes you think I asked him to stop?”

Kris froze, startled. He shook his head slowly. “I… I don’t understand…”

“Well, it’s not like what I wanted _mattered_ to him, did it? As long as he got what he wanted… he was happy. And… it was in my best interests to keep him happy, wasn’t it? So, if he wanted to… to tie me down, or… or make me crawl… or fucking choke me ‘til I passed out… hey… anything to keep him _satisfied_ , right?” The blazing fury in Adam’s eyes seemed to _dare_ Kris to judge him for what he’d done. “I let him do anything he wanted. I _did_ anything he wanted.” Adam shook his head slowly, and laughed, but it was a dark, ugly sound that made Kris feel cold and sick inside. “His good little _slut_.”

The disgust and self-accusation in Adam’s voice tore at Kris’s heart. He shook his head, reaching out to take Adam’s trembling hand in his own. Although Adam didn’t pull away, his hand remained rigid in Kris’s grasp. Still, Kris pressed forward anyway, determined to get through to him.

“Adam… it wasn’t your fault, okay? You didn’t have a choice.” He shook his head, slowly and certainly. “You never asked him to… to _violate_ you like that…”

“You think you know so much.” Adam cut him off, his voice low and laughing as he met Kris’s eyes again, something dark and frightening in his gaze. “Think you know _me_ so well. But, if you really did, you wouldn’t…” His words broke off, and he shook his head, looking away again for a moment. When he looked back up at Kris, it was with an expression that challenged Kris to _try_ to find a way to explain away his words. “I _did_ ask him to, Kris. I _offered_. I… _begged_ him to… how did you put it? _Violate_ me? I begged him to do it, and I thanked him when he was done! Told him how much I fucking _liked_ it! Because I’m just that pathetic, Kris! I’m that big a fucking _whore_ …!”

“No, you’re not,” Kris insisted gently, tears welling in his eyes at the thought of all that Adam had gone through, and how much of it he still clearly blamed on himself. “Adam… no matter what you said or did to… to _survive_ that hell you were living in… you didn’t really have a choice. You can’t… consent to something when the alternative is… being _beaten_ half to death!”

Adam didn’t argue, but he shook his head, defeated and despairing, all of his energy seeming to have left him with his last confession.

“You weren’t in a position to consent or refuse,” Kris reiterated gently but firmly, willing Adam to see the truth of his words. “He took away all your other options but to just go along with whatever he wanted. And Adam, I’m sorry, but there’s only one word for that…”

Kris’s words broke off as abruptly, Adam withdrew his hand from Kris’s gentle grasp and rose to his feet, his back turned to his boyfriend, his voice guarded and trembling.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Kris’s heart sank, as he stood beside Adam, reaching out to touch his arm. “Wait, babe, _please_ ,” he gently urged him. “We don’t have to. We don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to…”

“Kris, I… I just need… to be alone for a little bit, okay?” Adam’s voice was taut and warning, and Kris could tell that he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. “I’ll just… I’ll go sleep in the guest room…”

“No,” Kris insisted. “No, I will. You stay here.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s okay. I’ll be fine, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Kris forced a reassuring smile to his lips as he picked up his pillow off the bed and moved to stand in front of Adam, facing him. Adam’s face was still closed off to Kris, guarded, trying to hide what he was feeling – but his brow was creased in a frown, and there was fear in his eyes as he searched Kris’s face anxiously – no doubt searching for the anger or resentment that would certainly have been on Jordan’s face had Adam dared to dismiss him this way. Kris raised a gentle hand to cup Adam’s cheek, shaking his head as he repeated firmly,

“It’s okay, Adam. Really. If you need space – you got it. I’ll be right across the hall if you need me, and if you wanna talk later… or don’t… it’s all good, babe, I promise. Whatever you need.”

Kris rose on his tiptoes to press a very soft, cautious kiss to Adam’s surprise-parted lips, before drawing back and meeting his eyes.

“I love you,” he reminded Adam softly before disappearing out the door and into the hallway beyond.

He waited until the guest room door had closed behind him to allow his frustrated, horrified tears to flow freely, screaming his rage into the pillow in his hands.

******************************************

 

 _“Mmm, baby… you always smell so good…”_

 

 _Adam tilted his head to the side, allowing Jordan better access for the slow, sensuous kisses he was pressing against the column of his throat – unwelcome as they were. He was exhausted and not feeling very well after several nights in a row on not enough sleep, while trying to keep up a happy façade for the public who seemed to be monitoring his every waking moment. Jordan seemed to be in a highly amorous mood – but all Adam wanted to do was sleep._

 

 _“Jordan, please,” he murmured wearily, reaching up to touch Jordan’s cheek. “I’m so sleepy, honey… can we just go to bed?”_

 

 _“That’s what you said last night,” Jordan reminded him, his words a low growl tinged with a warning note of frustration._

 

 _“I know,” Adam whispered, turning in Jordan’s arms to face him, his eyes pleading for understanding. “It’s just… I’ve been doing press all week, all day every day, and I’m just worn out. Can’t we just wait?”_

 

 _“I’m sick of waiting,” Jordan muttered, eyes flashing with something dark and dangerous as he suddenly gripped Adam’s arms and pushed him backward toward the bed. “You’ve held out all day; you can stand another thirty minutes or so before you go to sleep.”_

 

 _Adam stumbled over the edge of the bed, sitting down hard, staring up at Jordan through eyes wide with alarm as his boyfriend swiftly advanced on him. “Jordan, wait a minute…”_

 

 _“Shut up,” Jordan snarled, pushing Adam down onto his back on the bed and moving to straddle his waist, his greedy fingers already working the buttons at the front of Adam’s shirt. “Come on, it’s been nearly a week. If you’re honest with yourself, you know you want this as bad as I do.”_

 

 _“Jordan, stop it.” Adam’s voice was trembling with genuine fear now, as he tried to push his boyfriend off of him with both hands. “Stop, I don’t want…”_

 

 _“I know what_ you _need,” Jordan declared suddenly, with a cool smirk that sent a shiver of apprehension down Adam’s spine. “You need to stop trying to run the show all the time, Adam. You need to just relax and let me take control…”_

 

 _As he spoke, Jordan reached under the mattress, pulling out a pair of shiny silver handcuffs that looked entirely too genuine for Adam’s comfort. Adam’s eyes widened with horror, and he shook his head, renewing his efforts to push Jordan off of him._

 

 _“No… Jordan, no, I don’t want you to…”_

 

 _“Come on, you’ll enjoy it, I promise…”_

 

 _“No, I’m not into… I don’t like not being able to move, or… or to get up, or…” Adam swallowed hard, his mouth dry and his stomach quaking at the very thought of being so restrained. “Get off me, I don’t want to…”_

 

 _Jordan ignored his protests, reaching down to grasp Adam’s right wrist with one hand, bringing the cuffs close to it with the other. Adam tried to jerk his hand away, panicked, but Jordan managed to fasten one cuff around his wrist before he could get it free. When Jordan turned his attention toward Adam’s other hand, Adam began to struggle in earnest, desperation fueling his actions as the truth sank in with cruel finality: It didn’t matter what he said, or how firmly he tried to tell Jordan that he did not want this._

 

 _Jordan was not going to stop._

 

 _“No, get off!” Adam protested, his voice shaking dangerously, rising in pitch with his panic. “Jordan, stop!” He shoved at his boyfriend’s chest with both hands, his efforts weakened by the need to evade Jordan’s hands, seeking to trap his own. “Please, just_ stop _…”_

 

 _“Easy, sweetheart,” Jordan crooned in a tone that was meant to be soothing, but only terrified Adam further as he grasped Adam’s cuffed wrist and drew it up over his head. “Easy… just settle down and let this happen…”_

 

 _“_ No _!” Adam cried out, jerking his hand free hard. “Jordan, I_ don’t want to _!”_

 

 _He flung his arm out wildly, his struggles losing their aim in his desperate terror, and – quite accidentally – the open, sharp edge of the cuff meant for his other wrist caught Jordan across the cheek, hard enough to draw blood. Adam felt a moment’s brief triumph as Jordan fell backward, his hand flying to his face as he cried out in shock and pain. He drew his hand away from his face, staring in disbelief at the deep red that stained his fingertips._

 

 _But then – he turned his focus back toward Adam._

 

 _“Jordan, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t… didn’t mean to…”_

 

 _Dread filled Adam’s heart at the expression of vindictive malice in Jordan’s eyes – a moment before his clenched fist fell with brutal force across Adam’s face, silencing his pleading apologies. A second blow left him breathless, his vision swimming, his limbs weak and no longer struggling – until he felt Jordan’s hand grasp his wrist again, raising it up above his head toward the headboard._

 

 _Adam began to struggle again, frantic, aware that he had mere seconds before his chance for escape would have fully passed. Tears of frustrated defeat and terror streaked his face as Jordan caught his other wrist in his free hand and raised it to join the other._

 

 _“Please,” Adam sobbed. “Jordan, don’t! Please don’t do this… I’ll do whatever you want, you don’t have to…”_

 

 _He flinched, his words falling silent at the sound of the cuffs clicking shut, binding his hands above his head and to the bed. A moment later, Jordan clamped a harsh, painful hand over his mouth, leaning in close with cold fury in his eyes._

 

 _“Of course you will, Adam,” he sneered. “There was never any question of_ that _.”_

 

 _Adam’s tears slipped down his cheeks as he tried to shake his head, falling into contact with Jordan’s cruel, grasping fingers, biting into Adam’s face. He pulled uselessly against the handcuffs that bound him, his heart racing with panic, as Jordan raised his hand so that it covered both his mouth and nose, pressing down hard so that Adam couldn’t move and leaning in close, his breath hot and oppressive against Adam’s face as he whispered in his ear._

 

 _“You fight me like that again, Adam… and I’ll kill you, you hear me?”_

 

 _Adam nodded, his lungs aching for air, and he ceased his useless struggle to draw breath – accepting with despair that he would not be able to do so until Jordan allowed it. He was shaking with the effort to keep still – but he knew that obedience was the only recourse he had left at this point._

 

 _“You’re gonna be a real good boy, now, aren’t you, Adam?” Jordan’s voice was leading, warning, and Adam nodded hurriedly, desperately, under his hand. He snatched Adam’s hair with his free hand as he spoke, shaking him hard until he whimpered with pain. “You’re gonna shut your fucking mouth, and stop_ _trying to get away, and maybe…_ maybe _… I’ll decide not to punish you for nearly_ taking my eye out _!”_

 

 _Adam gasped for breath as Jordan abruptly released his grip on his mouth and rose from the bed, drawing draughts of air that came out again in deep, panicked sobs. He could hear water running in the bathroom, could hear Jordan opening drawers and moving around. When Jordan returned at last, there was a bandage over the bleeding spot on his cheek – and a lit cigarette in his hand. A shiver ran through Adam, his heart clenching with fear._

 

 _Jordan didn’t smoke._

 

 _“I thought about it,” Jordan informed him with a cold, malicious grin. “And I’ve decided… you_ really _deserve to be punished, Adam.”_

 

 _“Please,” Adam sobbed, shaking his head, trying in vain to pull away as Jordan straddled his waist once more, pinning him down to the bed and taking away what little freedom of movement he had left. “Please, don’t. Please, I’m so sorry…”_

 

 _“I thought I told you to shut up, Adam.” Jordan’s voice was frighteningly calm as he reached down to clamp his hand tightly over Adam’s mouth again, then brought up his other hand, holding the cigarette close to Adam’s face. Jordan’s smile widened with satisfaction at the terror in Adam’s eyes as they followed the movement of the cigarette. “Now just hold still… and be good… and it’ll all be over soon…”_

*****************************************

“No, no, please stop… please don’t, I’ll be good… I’ll be good, _please_ …”

“Shhh… it’s all right, darlin’. You’re safe. It’s all right…”

Adam slowly rose out of the depths of his nightmare, drawn by the soft warmth in the familiar voice of his lover, to find himself lying in Kris’s bed, already enveloped closely in Kris’s arms. He stared into the darkness, his eyes trying to adjust, his body shaking violently, as Kris ran one hand slowly, soothingly, up and down his back, pressing a tender kiss to his brow before continuing his soft litany of gentle reassurance.

“It’s all right, Adam. You’re all right. It was just a dream, babe… come on, that’s it… come on back to me…”

Adam buried his face against Kris’s chest, turning into his embrace and clutching desperately at his waist, pulling him closer, as deep, painful sobs shook his body. The dull ache in his chest was nothing, however, compared to the remembered agony of his dreams, and he clung to Kris, desperate to know that _this_ was reality – _this_ , and not the dark, tortured memories of a past that was still all too real.

“It’s okay,” Kris whispered. “Go ahead, babe, just let it all out…” His hand rose to cup the back of Adam’s hand, gentle fingers tenderly working through the tangled, damp strands of Adam’s hair. “You’re safe here, Adam… you’re safe here with me…”

Adam took shelter in the words, holding tight to Kris and allowing the emotions he’d fought so hard to hold back earlier to pour forth. He’d thought his brutal description of the things he’d willingly taken part in would push Kris away. It was only a matter of time before Kris realized the truth about him, and walked out. He’d thought it was better to just get it over with – just let Kris know exactly the kind of person it was that he thought that he _loved_ , so he’d go ahead and run if he was going to.

But Kris was right there, holding him, talking to him softly – warm, soothing words that meant nothing, and _everything_ , at the same time – his devotion unchanged by Adam’s earlier words and behavior. Adam clung to him, sobbing softly, as he began to allow himself to accept what Kris had been promising all along, but he hadn’t yet dared to believe.

Kris wasn’t going anywhere.

Somehow, the security of that knowledge gave Adam the strength to face the truth that Kris had tried to tell him earlier. He’d tried to shut it out, but the pain, the memories were too close to the surface now, too raw and open, to hide from them any longer. The words poured forth from his lips as quickly as they filled his mind, hoarse and harsh and a little too loud in the hushed stillness of the room around them.

“He… he _raped_ me.”

Kris fell silent, his hands momentarily stilling – and then, he simply held Adam tighter, pressing his face into the crook of Adam’s neck and rocking slowly, soothingly, holding Adam together as his body suddenly seemed to want to shake itself apart.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know, Adam…”

“He… he _made_ me, I… I d-didn’t want to… he… he _forced_ me to…”

Kris just held him, not shushing him, not offering any advice or empty comforting words – just allowing Adam to come to terms with the awful truth that haunted him.

“I didn’t want it,” he whispered again, his face pressed against Kris’s chest, his words muffled yet all too clear. “He… he tied me down, and… and said he’d kill me if I fought him, and… and he _raped_ me, Kris. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop him…”

“You couldn’t,” Kris agreed softly, shaking his head against Adam’s shoulder, and Adam felt the hot moisture of Kris’s tears as they sank through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. “It wasn’t your fault, Adam… it wasn’t your fault…”

Adam just cried for a long time, painful truth spilling from his lips with his tears – words he’d never thought he’d be able to speak aloud, burdens he’d never thought he could share with anyone – and Kris quietly took them all, embracing Adam with all the damage and brokenness that had become a part of who he was. His solid, soft strength held Adam up, supporting and comforting, without the possessive, controlling restraint that Jordan’s arms had always held for him.

In the quiet, cathartic stillness that finally fell over them in that darkened room, Adam took comfort from the steady warmth of Kris’s arms, and found himself wondering how he could ever have expected them to bring him pain. Kris offered him solace and protection from the fear and shame that had been his constant companions, and Adam gratefully allowed it to wash over him, settling into Kris’s embrace and finally drifting off to a deep and dreamless sleep.


	49. Chapter 49

When Adam woke up a couple of hours later, it was to a pair of dark, solemn eyes studying his face, and gentle fingertips running idly through his hair. Adam’s eyes burned from the tears he’d shed earlier, so he gave Kris a soft smile before closing them again, nestling in close against his chest, his voice cracked and sleepy.

“You know, if you weren’t so adorable, that’d be kinda creepy.”

Kris didn’t laugh. He just wrapped his arms more snugly around Adam, pressing his cheek against the top of Adam’s head and holding him close. Adam’s heart ached with the sorrow he felt emanating from his boyfriend’s silence, and he swallowed back the knot that formed in his throat, turning his face into Kris’s chest – suddenly feeling as if they simply couldn’t be close enough.

Being close to Kris felt somehow – _different_ , now. It was as if a weight had been lifted from Adam’s shoulders, leaving him free to enjoy that closeness without the constant dread hanging over his head – dread that it might vanish away at any moment.

The secrets Adam had been keeping from Kris were out in the open now. Kris knew the worst – of what Adam had done, and of what had been done to him – and yet, he was still there, offering the same comfort and reassurance he had always offered.

And Adam no longer hesitated to accept it.

Still, he didn’t understand it, or feel that he deserved it.

 

 _What does he want with a fucked up, broken wreck like me?_

Adam knew that Kris could have had his choice of women _or_ men – and yet, he chose to stay with Adam, in spite of the constant emotional uncertainty and turmoil that left him with. Adam was grateful, knowing that without Kris, he’d have gone back to his miserable existence with Jordan long ago – but he couldn’t help wondering _why_. He tried to shut out the self-doubt and insecurity of his thoughts, to simply accept Kris’s love for what it was, without questioning.

 

 _I might never know why, but one thing I know: as long as he wants me… he’s_ got _me._

“So… how do you feel?” Kris’s voice was hushed and cautious, followed by a brief brush of his lips against the top of Adam’s head. “Still hate me for those stupid handcuffs?”

Adam felt a slight shiver go through him at the reminder of that nasty moment of shock when he’d found the ill-fated cuffs in the drawer – but he suppressed it, cuddling closer to Kris as he replied honestly.

“I could never hate you.”

Kris let out a soft laugh. “I’m lucky, then. Because… I know that’s just the first of many screw ups.” He was quiet for a moment before venturing in a more serious tone, “I… I’m trying, Adam, but I’m not gonna get this right every time, you know? I… I just hope you’ll be patient with me…”

Adam couldn’t hold back a startled laugh, shaking his head at the irony of it.

“What?” Kris drew back to meet his eyes, his own wide and mystified. “What’s funny?”

“It’s just…” Adam began – then lowered his head, seeking out Kris’s chest as his pillow again as an excuse to hide his face before going on. “… after everything I’ve put you through. All this… this constant drama… the way I’m… making you wait, for… so many things… and… you think _I’m_ gonna lose patience with _you_.”

“Hey…” Kris drew back again, reaching down to gently tilt Adam’s head up to face him. His voice was soft and gentle as he met Adam’s reluctant gaze with a warm smile and assured him, “You’re worth it.”

Adam’s lips parted to argue, those old familiar doubts in his mind as natural as breathing, but he couldn’t find the words. After a moment he looked away again, feeling self-conscious and uncomfortable under the weight of Kris’s admiration. Kris didn’t push him to look up again, just held him, running his fingers gently through Adam’s hair. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice quiet and level.

“If you wanna talk about it, Adam… if you wanna tell me… anything… I’ll listen. I’m right here…”

Adam didn’t acknowledge the words at all, just remained still and quiet in Kris’s arms. Then, finally, he whispered, “I was so… so _stupid_.”

******************************************

Kris’s instinct was to argue, but he kept quiet, aware that defending Adam’s intellect was not the priority in this moment. There was something Adam was trying to say to him, and Kris did not want to distract him from it. He just remained silent, his fingers soothing gently through Adam’s hair as he waited for him to go on.

“I… I should have seen it coming. I mean… he was always kind of… controlling, and like… _dominant_. Like… like none of my other boyfriends ever were, but… I just thought… maybe that’s what I _needed_. None of my other relationships worked out in the end, right? I spent a lot of time chasing after… things that didn’t work out, and…” His voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I just… I thought…”

Adam shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself before pressing his face against Kris’s chest again. “I was such an idiot.”

“No,” Kris murmured, unable to hold back his protest completely, but not wanting to discourage Adam from going on. “No, you weren’t…”

“He just… he could be so… loving, and gentle, sometimes. When we first started dating, he made me feel so… so safe, and… like… there was someone in my life who cared about me more than anything or anyone else, you know? But… then he… he _changed_.”

The hurt and confusion of that change in the man he’d loved was clear in Adam’s voice, and Kris felt a sharp pang in his chest. He wordlessly tightened his embrace, holding Adam close and trying his best to support him through his painful confession.

“Nothing I did was… was _right_ anymore. I… don’t know what happened. He loved me. I was… special, and amazing, and talented, and everything he’d ever wanted… and then… I _wasn’t_.”

Adam’s voice trembled tearfully, filled with a bewildered, innocent hurt, and Kris felt his own eyes well up with sympathy, but he blinked his own tears away.

Adam needed him to be strong right now.

“He used to be so… so tender and… and attentive… to what I wanted, but… but he stopped caring, I guess. He started… calling me names, yelling at me. He thought I was cheating any time I talked to another guy, and… and he said I was a… a whore, a slut… a…” Adam hesitated, swallowing hard, and Kris knew by his tone that the next words he spoke were a direct quote. “… a stupid, worthless bitch that no one else would want. He said I was… fat and disgusting and ugly, and… and I should be grateful that he even stayed with me, because… no one else ever h-had, and… no one else ever would.”

Kris’s soothing, affectionate hand, running slowly up and down Adam’s back, was a wordless rebuttal of those cruel words, and would have to do for the moment. For now, Kris kept silent, allowing Adam to go on, despite the pain he felt just to hear it.

 

 _He had to_ live _it. The least I can do is help him carry part of the burden._

“He started… getting… really demanding. He wanted sex… a _lot_ of it, and… with the album, and the tour, and… constant interviews and photo shoots and…” Adam shook his head slowly. “I just… I was so _tired_ , all the time. And… he wanted to do things that… that I wasn’t used to. He… always liked to be in control of the situation, so… so he liked to… to be on top, and… I was never into that, you know? So… he’d ask, and… more and more… I’d say no. At first, he’d just get… irritated, and… it’d scare me, but… but he didn’t…” Adam’s voice trailed off, and Kris could feel his body trembling against him, knew how difficult this was – but if Adam felt that he needed to say it, to get this out, Kris wasn’t going to stop him. “After… after he started… hitting me…” Adam’s voice was barely over a whisper, his face hidden against Kris’s body. “… he… he stopped _asking_.”

When Adam didn’t go on for a long time, Kris spoke up, his voice hushed and husky with unshed tears. “Adam… you don’t… you don’t have to tell me all this, if you don’t want to…”

“I have to,” Adam whispered. “You have to understand… what I… what I said before… I… I didn’t…” Adam stopped for a moment, struggling to regain control of his emotions enough to go on. “He… he made me do things... He’d… put his belt around my neck and… and force me to get on my knees, and… and beg him to… to suck his cock. Made me thank him when I was done. Made me tell him how much I liked it. Made me say that I was… his bitch. His… his good little whore who liked doing whatever I was told. If I didn’t, he… he… sometimes I thought he was gonna… k-kill me, ‘cause he wouldn’t _stop_ , and…”

“Shhh, it’s all right,” Kris soothed him, breaking in when Adam’s voice drifted to a high, panicked place outside of his own control. “Adam, it’s all right. You don’t have to…”

“I didn’t want to, Kris.” Adam abruptly looked up at him, his pleading eyes glistening with tears. “I… I said I asked him for it, and that I told him I liked it, but… but he _made_ me say those things. I didn’t really… I didn’t…”

“I know,” Kris assured him, the hand in Adam’s hair sliding down to cup his cheek. “Adam, I know, okay?” His dark eyes were filled with sorrow and compassion as he met Adam’s tearful, uncertain gaze. “I never believed for a _second_ that you actually wanted any of that, babe. You didn’t have a choice. I get that. But… listen to me, Adam…” He held Adam’s gaze firmly, arresting it with his own, refusing to let him look away as he continued in a solemn, intent tone, “You know it was all lies, right? All that crap he told you about… about not deserving any better than how he treated you?”

Adam looked away, his expression crumpling with shame, but Kris tilted his head up again.

“No, look at me, darlin’,” he coaxed softly, waiting until Adam complied to go on. “None of that was true. He used that to control you. If you were really so… so disgusting and worthless and stupid… why would he have wanted so badly to keep you, Adam? Why wouldn’t he have just let you go? No… he told you that to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave him – but it’s not true, none of it. Adam, you’re _beautiful_ … and amazing… and if there’s one thing I _can’t_ blame Jordan for, it’s wanting you to stay with him… because any man would be a fool to let you go.”

Adam shook his head in denial, looking away again, his emotions too raw and close to the surface to allow him to speak any more. Kris didn’t make him look up this time, just wrapped his arms around him and held him close as he continued to offer what reassurance he could, with his own heartfelt words of devotion.

“If it takes the rest of my life, Adam… I’m going to show you what it is that you _really_ deserve. You deserve to be loved, and respected, and treated like… like the treasure you _are_ , Adam. You _are_ special and beautiful and all of those things that Jordan made you feel, at first – and the moment any man _stops_ making you feel that way is the moment when you should _get out_ , because… because it’s obvious they don’t deserve you.”

Adam was quiet for a moment before he raised his head to meet Kris’s eyes, his expression one of awe and gratitude. He swallowed hard, blinking back tears, his voice hoarse and low and heavy with emotion.

“Kris Allen, _you_ make me feel… like…”

He hesitated, biting his lower lip, and Kris could see the uncertainty in his eyes, knew that he was trying to get up the courage to go on.

“What?” he pressed in a gentle whisper. “Like what, Adam?”

“Like…” Adam struggled over the words, shaky but hopeful, filled with mingled desperation and determination. “… like I can make it. Like… I’m going to survive this. Like I can, maybe… someday… get back to where I was before any of this h-happened. And… I haven’t felt like that for… for a really long time…”

Something in Kris’s heart melted with those words, and he leaned in, impulsively, to kiss the damp, parted lips mere inches from his own. It was a brief but tender kiss, chaste and without any intent besides simply expressing his gratitude and love for the man lying here in his arms – loving him _, trusting_ him, despite his recent failure. Kris drew back, eyes shining with hope as he nodded slowly.

“You can, Adam,” he promised softly. “You _will_. And when you do… I’m going to be right there with you.”


	50. Chapter 50

Neither Kris nor Adam ventured from the bed until well after ten that morning.

Kris was the first to reluctantly get up, pulling on a clean shirt and a comfortable pair of jeans. He was running his hands through his hair in front of the mirror – perfecting the bedhead he’d mostly accomplished before he’d even gotten up – when Adam rose up on one arm, blinking sleepily as he watched him finish getting ready.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to go to the studio for a few hours.” Kris gave him an apologetic look. “It’s been a few days, and the producers are gonna get antsy if I don’t have something to show them Tuesday.”

Adam frowned. “It’s Saturday. There won’t even be anyone there today.”

Kris smirked, catching Adam’s eyes in the mirror. “That would be the point.”

“They know the trial is Monday,” Adam pointed out, his lower lip jutting out in a slight pout. “Don’t you think they’d understand if you just promise to work _really hard_ on the album _after_ Monday?”

“They would,” Kris admitted, turning to face Adam with an apologetic grimace once he’d completed his morning routine. He met Adam’s eyes and confessed softly, “I just… _I need_ to go to the studio for a little while. Just to… to play, and maybe write a little. I need to, this morning. ” He cleared his throat self-consciously, looking away. “In particular.”

 

 _Oh._

Adam’s heart sank with sudden, painful understanding.

 

 _He needs to… write, and play, and… vent. And… maybe… just to be away from_ me _for a little while…_

 

 _Can’t say that I blame him…_

“Oh. Um… that’s fine, then. I’ll just see you when you…”

“Wanna come along?”

Adam froze, staring up at Kris with vague suspicion. “What?”

But there was no guile in Kris’s hopeful smile as he faced Adam again and gave him a shy little shrug. “There might be a shopping trip in it for you afterwards, if you do. Please? I wanna play you a new song I’ve been working on.”

Adam’s relief was nearly overwhelming. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and nodded eagerly. He hadn’t felt like going out much lately – but at the moment, he felt even less like being separated from Kris.

 

 _And besides… it might be kind of…_ inspiring _… to see the inside of a studio again. It’s been nearly a year since my last album, and even then, Jordan was there, and…_

Adam suppressed a shudder, shutting out the dark memories that filled his mind. This trip would not be with Jordan. He would be in the studio with _Kris_ – no pressure, no expectations, just the two of them sharing music and ideas with no one else around to bother them…

 

 _Yeah. This might be nice._

 “Sure,” Adam readily agreed, getting up and heading for the closet. “Sounds like fun.”

It did sound like fun – but as Kris drove them toward the studio, Adam’s familiar fears began to amplify, until by the time he parked his car outside the studio, Adam’s stomach was in knots. He drummed his fingers anxiously on the door where his arm was resting, swallowing hard as he stared out the window at the quiet, empty building.

 

 _No one’s even there. There’s nothing to be afraid of…_

“It’s all locked up,” Kris explained without being asked, giving Adam a reassuring smile. “I’ve got the key.”

The gentleness in his voice, the compassionate warmth in his eyes as he produced the key from his pocket and held it up for Adam to see, made it embarrassingly clear to Adam how obvious his anxiety had been.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Nothing to be sorry for, babe,” Kris assured him, his tone light and dismissive as he leaned across the seat, cupping the back of Adam’s head to give him a quick kiss. “Come on. This’ll be fun.”

Two of Kris’s hired security guards got out of the car behind theirs and met them on the sidewalk as they approached the door.

“Can you guys wait out here? We shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours,” Kris told them. “Don’t let anyone inside unless they have a key – and call me if anyone _does_ show up, okay?”

Satisfied that their security team was in place, Kris led Adam by the hand through the doors, then locked them securely behind them. He tested the door, pulling it slightly, then gave Adam a conspiratorial grin before nodding down the hallway ahead of them. Only then did the nauseous feeling of unease in the pit of Adam’s stomach begin to slowly subside – and as he realized that the place was indeed empty, and they were on their own, he started to think that maybe Kris was right, and this was a good idea.

Once they reached the room where Kris usually wrote and practiced, Kris opened the door and turned on the lights, then took up a well-worn acoustic guitar from a stand on the floor. Kris sat down on a stool before idly strumming the strings, checking to make sure his instrument was in tune.

“So… you’ve got a song to play for me?” Adam gave Kris an expectant smile as he slid onto the stool next to his.

Kris returned his smile, a self-conscious flush coloring his cheeks as he ducked his head over the guitar, playing a few notes before looking up at Adam again. “In a little while, okay? Let me just… warm up first.”

“Sure.” Adam got up again, feeling restless. He paced the floor slowly, idly taking stock of the various instruments and equipment in the room before hesitantly turning back toward Kris. “Um… do you think they’d care if I just like… wandered around a bit? Just sorta… took a look around?”

“Of course not.” Kris smiled, giving him an encouraging nod. “Go for it. When you get back, I promise I’ll be ready.”

Adam wandered through the darkened rooms of the empty studio, remembering the early days of his career, when he’d been so excited to spend time in a place like this, laying down tracks for his very first album. The entire world had lay before him at that point – full of possibilities, without the dark, looming specter that now haunted his every thought.

 

 _But… it had already started, really… even back then…_

 

 _The night before my first album came out was… the night of the AMA’s, and… and Jordan… he was_ furious _after…_

Adam shuddered, struggling to put those thoughts out of his mind – but he couldn’t, not completely.

 

 _It’s never been like I dreamed it would,_ he realized with a sad, heavy ache in the pit of his stomach. _Not for a moment. And… that’s because of Jordan. He’s been in my life the whole time… criticizing and controlling and forcing things to go the way he wanted. He’s taken so much from me. My freedom, my choices, my confidence, even…_

 

 _… even my dreams._

Adam headed back toward the room where Kris was practicing, his thoughts heavy with uncertainty. A deep sense of melancholy came over him, his heart aching for all that he’d lost – all those stolen dreams, which, from here, looked so far out of his reach.

But… at least they were within his sight again.

 

 _Can I ever fix all the damage I let him do to my life? Can I ever… get those dreams back again?_

Adam stopped outside the glass door, smiling in spite of his troubled thoughts at the sight of Kris, playing the guitar and singing at the top of his lungs, utterly unaware of anything but himself and the music. The expression on Kris’s face was intent and focused, and Adam could tell even without hearing a note that Kris was singing with everything within him, all his heart. He thought again of all that Kris had given back to him – all the support he offered that was in direct contrast to what he’d received from Jordan.

 

 _Can I get those dreams back again? Yeah… yeah, I think I can._

Adam opened the door and slipped inside, his ears immediately filling with the music Kris was playing – something with a vaguely country sound, a sorrowful melody filled with pain and regret that connected with the haunting, heartfelt sound of Kris’s voice in a way that made Adam’s heart ache, even before he had processed the lyrics of the song.

 

 _“He laid his heart and soul right in your hands,_

 

 _And you stole his every dream and you crushed his plans._

 

 _He never even knew he had a choice._

 

 _That’s what happens when the only voice he hears is telling him he can’t._

 

 _Oh, you stupid boy…”_

Kris’s voice fell into silence, his eyes closed as he played the last few notes of the song on his guitar, humming along softly. Adam stood quietly by the door, his mind playing over the startlingly appropriate lyrics again and again as he waited for Kris to finish. He was fairly certain that Kris had not even noticed yet that he was there. As the last notes died away, Adam ventured a soft question.

“Is that it?”

Kris looked up at him, startled. “Adam!” He shook his head slightly, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. “What?”

“The song you wrote, that you wanted to play for me. Is that it?”

Kris’s eyes widened, and he smiled, bemused. “No. I might have… changed a couple pronouns…” Kris glanced away, a little self-consciously. He picked nervously at the strings of his guitar for a moment before looking up at Adam again, but not quite making eye contact before looking down again. “It was a big hit country song by Keith Urban.”

“Oh, well, no wonder I didn’t recognize it, then.” Adam laughed as he slowly closed the distance between them, then slid onto the stool next to Kris. “I don’t listen to a lot of country.”

Kris smiled, but his smile seemed strained and sad.  “I did a couple of shows with him last year, and I really liked the song, and… anyway, it’s just… been on my mind today.” He cleared his throat, his voice coming out strangely hushed as he continued in a tone that struggled for casual but didn’t quite make it, “Anyways, it’s about…”

“I know what it’s about.” Adam cut him off quietly, his expression solemn and pensive as Kris looked up at last to meet his eyes. Adam’s voice was barely over a whisper. “Kris… you’re… you’re _crying_.”

Kris rolled his eyes at his own display of emotion, shaking his head with a dismissive gesture of his hand. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I just… I shouldn’t be…”

Adam silenced his voice with a swift, impulsive kiss – covering Kris’s mouth with his own and stealing his breath with his words. Kris seemed frozen with surprise – until he began to relax into the kiss, one arm slipping around Adam’s waist to draw him closer – though they could only get so close, with the awkward bulk of his guitar between them. When they parted, Adam’s eyes welled with tears of awed gratitude at the power of the emotions Kris so rarely allowed himself to display.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For… for loving me so much…”

Kris shook his head slowly, giving Adam a rueful smile. “As if I could help it.”

Adam felt a deep warmth spreading through him at the adoration in Kris’s eyes, and he had to look away – but he couldn’t prevent the helpless smile that spread across his face at the words. He cleared his throat self-consciously, looking away for a moment before reaching out to gently push at Kris’s knee, on which his guitar was resting, idle.

“Okay, enough. I want to hear your new song already!”

*****************************************

Kris kept his word, and took Adam shopping when they left the studio.

The longsuffering bodyguards accompanied them from shop to shop, keeping the paparazzi at a distance as Adam pointed out his favorite boutiques to Kris, nearly dragging him by the hand into one after another. Fortunately, his familiarity with the people who worked in those shops from before he’d gone on Idol, in combination with his recent notoriety, ensured that they were very eager to help Adam and Kris maintain some semblance of privacy. The guards remained outside the doors of each store while they shopped, keeping out anyone with a camera – with the full approval of the managers of those stores – while the staff made sure that any legitimate-but-curious shoppers left them in peace as well.

For Adam, it was nothing short of shopping heaven.

Adam was trying on a leather jacket that had been painted silver and decorated with assorted studs, stones, and what appeared to be bits of sparkly broken glass when he heard a soft knock on the wall beside the dressing room. The red curtain was pulled back slightly, and Kris peeked around.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Adam smiled. “I’m decent.”

“Oh.” Kris put on an exaggerated pout as he slipped inside and drew the curtain closed again. “Well, never mind, then.”

Adam laughed, turning to face Kris fully, holding out his arms in a questioning gesture, biting the side of his lip self-consciously. “What do you think?”

“I think…” Kris spoke slowly, a critical frown creasing his brow as he assessed the garment. “… that I hope you’re not spending much on that jacket…”

Adam frowned, confused, but Kris slowly closed the remaining distance between them, reaching out his hands to slide cautiously up the sleeves of the jacket, carefully avoiding its more dangerous adornments. As Kris concluded his assessment, a slight smirk began to form on his lips, and his voice lowered with a note of predatory enticement.

“… since you’re only going to get to wear it once before I can’t help _ripping it off you_ …”

Adam’s eyes widened, crinkling at the edges in the beginnings of a laugh that was swiftly swallowed up in a deep, intense kiss. Adam willingly yielded to it, closing his eyes and leaning back against the mirror as Kris pushed forward, one hand finding Adam’s and entangling their fingers while the other rose to cup the back of his head and shield it from a hard impact with the glass behind him.

Another quiet knock distracted them from their non-shopping-related pursuits, and a muffled, uncertain voice was heard from the other side of the curtain.

“Mr. Lambert? Mr. Allen? Is there anything we can get you? Another size on anything?”

They barely managed to suppress their guilty laughter, and Kris took a moment to compose himself before calling back, “Just a minute. We’re… checking. I’ll be right out in just a second.”

“All right, no hurry. Just let me know if I can help,” the girl replied, just before they heard the sound of retreating footsteps.

“We’re so totally busted,” Adam whispered, laughing. “She had to know…”

Kris shrugged dismissively, but his eyes were laughing as they met Adam’s just before he drew back to give the jacket one more lookover. “You know,” he observed, quirking one eyebrow up before meeting Adam’s gaze again. “Is that your usual size? Because I think you could do with a size smaller.”

“You think?” Adam’s eyes widened as he looked down at the jacket, turning to take in his reflection in the mirror. His face broke out into a smile of delight as he turned back toward Kris. “I think you’re right!”

“I’ll go get you another one, okay?” Kris suggested. “Why don’t you try on that other shirt while I’m gone?”

Adam waited until Kris had closed the curtain to face the mirror again, running one hand down over his stomach with a satisfied smile. He had to admit – the jacket looked pretty damn amazing. He slid it back off his shoulders, putting it back on the hanger before reaching for the shirt Kris had mentioned. His thoughts were busy, but pleasant, as he considered the day they’d had – and how long it had been since he’d had one like it.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun.

He pulled the soft, long-sleeved cotton shirt over his head, aware just as he did of the sound of the curtain sliding open and closed again.

“That was fast,” he remarked, though his voice was muffled by the shirt over his head. “Couldn’t stay away?”

He smiled to himself as he felt warm, slightly callused fingertips sliding across his stomach, and then a flat hand drawing him back against the solid, familiar body behind him.

“Wait a second,” he protested with a soft laugh. “Let me get my…”

His voice trailed off halfway through the sentence, a cold sensation creeping up his spine with the sudden realization that the feeling of the body behind him was indeed familiar – in all the wrong ways. Adam jerked the shirt down quickly over his head, pulling it on the rest of the way so that he could see, while simultaneously pulling away from the strong arm wrapped around him – but it did not yield. In fact, it only held him tighter, a firm hand reaching across his stomach to grasp his wrist and pin him in place, as another hand rose to clamp tightly over his mouth – all before Adam’s mind could catch up enough to face the terrifying truth of the coldly smiling face he saw in the mirror, over his own shoulder.

Jordan pressed a deceptively soft kiss to the bare skin at the crook of Adam’s neck before raising his eyes to meet Adam’s in the mirror – cold and menacing as the taunting whisper in his ear.

“Hey, baby. Miss me?”


	51. Chapter 51

Adam had imagined this moment so many times that he had lost count.

He’d played over the various possibilities – and with each passing day in which he’d felt stronger and safer and more confident, the imaginary outcome had become better and better. He imagined himself bold and strong, telling Jordan to his face that he couldn’t control him anymore. Adam saw through his lies, now. He knew better than to believe the humiliating, degrading things Jordan had made him feel about himself. He was strong and brave and confident, and wouldn’t allow himself to be abused any longer.

Now, with the sound of Jordan’s voice in his ear and the familiar, possessive touch of his hands – all of that confidence and certainty fled in an instant.

Blind panic drove Adam to resist, and he tried to twist away from Jordan’s restraining arm across his torso, and the rough hand clamped over his mouth – to no avail. Jordan only held him tighter, pushing Adam forward so that he was trapped between the mirror and Jordan’s intimidating bulk behind him.

“Really, Adam?” Jordan’s voice was low, barely over a whisper, but edged with a cold note of menace that turned the blood in Adam’s veins to ice water. “You’re _fighting_ me? You think that’s _smart_?”

Years of learned response took over, and Adam froze, instantly ceasing his struggles, shaking his head pleadingly.

“Here’s the situation you’ve gotten yourself into, Adam.” Jordan’s voice was deceptively soft as he met Adam’s panicked gaze in the mirror, his own gleaming with cold triumph. “No one knows I’m in here with you. One of my employees – the same one who let me know where to find you – is out there right now talking to your good friend _Kris_ …” He fairly spat the name. “And if they hear a _sound_ from you, baby… he’s dead. Do you understand me?”

***************************************

“Just one size smaller should be perfect.”

Kris gave the clerk a warm smile as she took the jacket from him and headed into the back room.

“ _Kris Allen_?”

Kris braced himself at the incredulous sound in the stranger’s voice, turning toward her with a nod of greeting and a practiced smile that somehow managed to look completely sincere.

“Oh my God, it _is_ you! I can’t _believe_ it!”

It wasn’t that Kris really minded meeting fans in random places. It was just that, at the moment, he was kind of in a hurry to get back to Adam. He was enjoying the peaceful privacy of the day they’d had thus far, and really wasn’t looking to spend his time signing autographs and posing for pictures.

 

 _Oh, well. It’s just one fan. Could be_ so _much worse…_

*******************************************

“One sound… and he’s dead. And _you’re_ dead. So you’re not gonna fight me, and you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut, aren’t you, Adam?” Jordan snarled in his ear, shaking him slightly.

Adam nodded hurriedly, gasping for breath as Jordan cautiously removed his hand from his mouth.

“Please,” Adam whispered tearfully. “Please don’t…”

His words broke off in a terrified whimper of pain that he struggled to choke back as Jordan grabbed a fistful of hair and jerked his head backward, hard. “You’re really that stupid, aren’t you?” he sneered. “I just told you to _shut the fuck up_!”

“I’m sorry,” Adam whispered, breathless, panic fueling his words despite his mind screaming at him to just _shut up!_ “I’m sorry, please…”

Jordan’s hand released its grip on Adam’s hair, only to lock painfully around his throat, cutting off his breath just enough to be a wordless warning to silence. Adam swallowed back his words, biting his lower lip and shaking his head slowly, pleadingly, as Jordan turned Adam so that his back was against the mirror, shifting in closer until there was no space left between them. Adam raised his hands instinctively to grip Jordan’s wrist, desperately gasping for breath, as Jordan leaned in close, his breath hot and oppressive against Adam’s cheek.

“You’re still the same stupid little whore you’ve always been, aren’t you, Adam?” he hissed. “It’s just, now… you think you’re someone else’s. So, Kris Allen likes to dress his whore up real pretty, doesn’t he? Buy you nice things… tell you how hot you are… make you think you’re something else, right? Makes you feel _special_ … but it’s all in exchange for you falling on your knees or spreading your legs whenever he wants... behaving like the cheap little slut you’ve always been…"

Adam felt sick with shame, hot tears welling up in his eyes as he tried to shake his head, his trembling lips forming a week, tentative objection.

"W-we… haven’t even…”

Jordan’s thumb pressed hard against his windpipe, turning his whispered protest into a choked, pleading cry as Jordan continued as if he hadn’t even spoken.

“No matter how he dresses you up… it doesn’t change what you are, does it, Adam? Doesn’t change the fact that you’ll give it up to whoever you need to, to save your own ass.” Adam’s heart sank with the words, his face flaming with humiliation as Jordan gave him a slow, derisive look up and down, his voice soft and cruel. “Doesn’t change a thing.”

************************************

“I can’t believe I ran into you here! I shop here all the time, and I’ve never run into a single celebrity, and I _live_ in L.A. Can you believe it? But here you are! Oh my God, this is _amazing_!”

The clerk came out of the back room with a smaller jacket, just in time to find Kris helplessly nodding and smiling at the girl’s rambling, overly perky monologue. She gave him a look of dismay, swiftly closing the distance between them.

“Mr. Allen, is everything okay? Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to ask you to…”

“No, it’s okay,” Kris insisted, though he was really relieved to see the clerk return. “Look, um… Angie, right? Do you have something you want me to… to sign, or…?”

“Oh, right. You want to get back to your shopping, of course.” The girl gave him a rueful smile, shaking her head at her own oversight as she began to rummage around in her handbag. “I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot sometimes. Here, um… give me a second… I’m sure I have something in my purse…”

******************************************

Jordan’s hand was still locked around Adam’s throat, though no longer actually restricting his breathing. It was nothing more than a wordless reminder, a menacing gesture that kept Adam silent, though he was choking back sobs by this point, his hands trembling on Jordan’s arm, his eyes closed in a vain attempt to shut out the terrifying reality of what was happening, as Jordan pressed him back against the mirror, their faces mere inches apart.

“You realize this trial nonsense is just a bunch of bullshit, right?” Jordan taunted, a cruel smirk twisting his mouth as he ran a suggestively possessive hand slowly over Adam’s stomach, under the soft cotton shirt he’d just put on. “You realize that no one’s actually going to _believe_ you. You’ve got Kris… who is more than a little bit biased, considering the fact that he’s wanted to take you away from me all along. And… as witnesses go, that’s about all you’ve got. I’ve got my entire staff who’ll testify that they never witnessed any abuse of any kind while working in our home. You realize that’s pretty suspicious, right? That supposedly all this was going on under their noses the whole time, and yet no one _saw anything_? They’ll all see _you_ for the lying little bitch you are, Adam. Don’t you get that?”

Adam shook his head, trying to deny it, but his shoulders shook with silent sobs as he lowered his head in shame and defeat, his face streaked with tears.

“Do you realize a man has never been convicted of domestic violence against another man in this state?” Jordan informed him in a tone of smug triumph. “There’s no way they’re sending me to prison. They’ll find me not guilty, and send me home. And you know what’ll happen then, Adam?”

Adam shook his head again, his breath quickening with panic, his body tense and trembling in dreadful anticipation of Jordan’s next words. Jordan’s voice was low, tauntingly enticing.

“Come on, baby. Take a wild guess.”

****************************************

“Thank you so much! This is so awesome! I can’t wait to tell my mom that I met Kris Allen shopping today,” Angie gushed as she tucked the gas station receipt he’d just signed back into her purse.

“It was so nice to meet you too.”

Kris nodded, turning to take the jacket from the clerk – but Angie caught his hand in both of hers, shaking it eagerly.

“I just can’t believe I’m actually touching Kris Allen. Wow. This is just… unreal…”

“Yeah…” Kris cleared his throat uncomfortably as he gently attempted to free his hand. “Look, Angie, um… I’m kinda busy…”

************************************

 

“If you testify in that courtroom on Monday…” Jordan’s voice was cold and hard, mercilessly threatening as he ran his free hand slowly, invasively over Adam’s body. “… make no mistake, Adam. I _won’t_ be going to prison. And when it’s all over, and I’m free to go home… I’ll wait a week or two. Let the dust settle and the media storm fade a little. And then…”

Adam shivered, feeling sick to his stomach as Jordan’s hand came to rest on his hip, tracing a slow, suggestive circle with his thumb. Jordan pressed his own hips in against Adam’s, pinning him completely and smirking when Adam shuddered in fear at the unwanted contact. His voice was low, filled with dark promise as he continued, releasing Adam’s throat to run his fingers slowly through his hair in a parody of affection.

“… I’ll come for you, baby. I’ll come and take back what’s mine. I can get to you _anywhere_. You know that now, right?” His voice was leading, deceptively gentle.

Adam nodded, unable to speak, a silent sob rising up in his throat.

“Your expert security team doesn’t mean shit, Adam. I know how to get past all of that – and when I do, I’ll make you watch while I beat the life out of your little twink in there. If your mom, or anyone else, tries to stop me – they’ll die, too. All because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Do you want to live with that, Adam? Do you want that on your conscience for the rest of your life?”

Adam shook his head, tears streaming from his eyes. “Please,” he choked out, his voice hoarse and pitifully pleading. “Please, Jordan, no… I’ll do whatever you want…”

“Of course you will.” Jordan’s voice was soft, patient, almost affectionate – and it made his next words all the more chilling. “Because if you don’t… I’ll kill everyone who means anything to you… and then, I’ll take you someplace nice and private and secluded… where I can remind you just who you belong to. Would you like that, Adam?”

Adam shook his head, sobbing softly. “No,” he whispered. “Please, no…”

“Then you’re going to keep your mouth shut at that trial on Monday.”

Jordan roughly grabbed his hair and shook him as he spoke, before yanking Adam in close to him, covering and claiming his mouth in a forceful, bruising kiss that Adam didn’t dare resist. Jordan withdrew at last with a cruel smile, holding Adam’s wide, panicked gaze with cool control and malicious satisfaction.

“See you Monday, baby.” He leaned in to whisper, so close that his lips brushed Adam’s ear, sending a shiver of dread down his spine. “Be a good boy.”

*******************************************

“So… I’m really sorry to have taken up so much of your time…” Angie said for what seemed like the fourteenth time.

“Thanks,” Kris weakly replied, hoping that this time she meant it. He hated to be downright rude to someone who was clearly such a fan, but the encounter had really dragged on far too long at this point – to the point of being awkward and almost a little unsettling.

Angie suddenly looked down in surprise, taking out her vibrating cell phone from her pocket and glancing at the screen. “Oh my God, I’m super late,” she informed Kris with an apologetic grimace, as if he would be terribly disappointed by the fact that, after announcing that she had to go multiple times, she was finally actually going to leave. “I’m sorry. I hate to be rude, but I’ve got to go. It was so nice meeting you! Thanks for the autograph!”

“No problem, nice to meet you.” Kris’s gratitude and relief made his voice sound far more sincere than it actually was.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Allen. I don’t know how she got past the guards at the door. They’re only supposed to be letting in people who are legitimately just shopping…” The clerk was clearly flustered, biting her lip and frowning as she glanced toward the door. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, no problem.” Kris dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. “It happens. I don’t think it’s really a security problem, anyway. She probably really _was_ just… shopping.” He gave her a disarming shrug and a smile as he took the jacket from her hand and headed back toward the dressing room.

He pushed back the curtain, already speaking. “Sorry it took so long, babe. There was this fan…”

Kris’s voice trailed off, his stomach dropping, the rest of his words forgotten at the sight that met his eyes.

Adam was huddled on the floor with his back against the mirror, his legs drawn up under him. His arms were wrapped tightly around his torso, his head bowed as his shoulders trembled with frantic, breathless sobs. Even from a distance, Kris could see that Adam was shaking violently, nearly beside himself with panic. As Kris looked on in stunned horror, Adam raised his tear-streaked face, fearful eyes finding Kris’s gaze, his lips parted to speak – but simply shaking his head helplessly when he couldn’t seem to find any words.

Kris immediately went to his side, kneeling and putting his arms around him. Adam leaned desperately into his embrace, burying his face in Kris’s chest and crying quietly.

“Adam… babe, what’s the matter?” Kris asked him softly, reaching down to gently raise Adam’s face to meet his. “Adam… what happened?”


	52. Chapter 52

“Adam…”

Kris knelt on the floor, cradling Adam’s head against his chest, running his fingers soothingly through his hair. Adam just clung to him with taut, trembling arms, his grip tight enough to nearly take Kris’s breath, as deep, helpless sobs shook his body.

Kris had never felt so helpless, himself.

“Adam…” His voice was hushed, soothing, though he couldn’t keep a tremor of dread from his words. “Adam… come on, talk to me, babe. What happened? Tell me…”

“H-he was here…”

The words were barely over a breath, but they were enough to make Kris’s stomach lurch – because he already knew the answer, even before he asked the question.

“Who?”

“J-Jordan,” Adam cried, a shudder passing through his shoulders. “He was here. He… he said if I… if I screamed, there was… someone out there who’d k-kill you, and I… I couldn’t… God, Kris, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry…”

“Shhh, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Kris assured him, lowering his head to press a tender kiss against Adam’s temple, brushing his damp hair back from his eyes, a troubled frown creasing his brow. “Adam, this wasn’t your fault…”

Adam didn’t even seem to hear him. “He s-said he’d… take me back, and… and kill you… and Mom… and a-anyone who t-tries to stop him!” Adam’s voice rose in speed and pitch as he went on, disjointed words tumbling over each other on their way past his trembling lips. “He said… n-no one would believe me. They’ll let him go… they’ll let him go, and he’ll c-come after me, and… he’ll hurt you, and I can’t let him hurt you, and I can’t… can’t go back, please, please d-don’t let him… don’t let him…”

“Adam, no… hush, darlin’, it’s all right.” Even as he spoke, Kris felt sick with the knowledge of how useless his reassurances were – but he had little else to offer at the moment. “You’re safe, he’s gone, he can’t touch you anymore…”

“I can’t,” Adam whispered, shaking his head against Kris’s chest. “I can’t, I can’t, I _can’t_ …”

“What?” But Kris’s heart sank, because once again, he was sure he already knew the answer. “Can’t what, babe?”

“Can’t… can’t tell,” Adam sobbed pleadingly, his shoulders shaking as he clung to Kris, his words aching with despair. “Can’t, or he’ll… he said he’d… I _can’t_ …”

“Shh, don’t worry about it, Adam,” Kris murmured, just holding him close and rocking slowly. “Don’t worry about any of that. I’m here, you’re safe now… I’m right here…”

Kris looked up in momentary alarm as a shadow fell over them, realizing only then that he had left the dressing room curtain standing open. The sales clerk stood there, wide-eyed with startled dismay as she took in the pitiful sight they made, but she didn’t speak.

“Tell my security guys to get in here and wait for me. I’m going to need to talk to them.” Kris’s voice was soft for Adam’s benefit – though Adam was too lost in his own panic even to hear him, or to realize that they weren’t alone. “The bastard they’re supposed to be protecting him from somehow got into this store, right under their noses.”

Her eyes widened, impossibly, further, and she nodded hurriedly before disappearing from view. Kris reached over and snatched the bottom of the curtain with one hand, jerking it closed before wrapping his arms around Adam again, protectively. It was bad enough that _one_ stranger had seen Adam in this state already; he had no intention of their useless security team being allowed to, as well.

But Kris pushed his anger back for the moment, and instead kept up a hushed, soothing litany of words that felt particularly meaningless in the wake of Jordan’s attack, trying to calm Adam down enough to get a better idea of what had happened. His mind was racing with dozens of questions that he knew Adam wouldn’t be able to answer, not yet anyway.

 

 _How did he get in here? Did he hurt him? Doesn’t he even_ care _about the restraining order? If we caught him on camera, he’ll go right to jail, but… did we? God, what is this going to do to_ Adam? _He was making so much progress… doing so well… and now, this…_

 

 _Why? Why_ now, _of all times?_

That wasn’t actually all that hard to figure out.

 

 _If he’d done this weeks ago, Adam would be over it by now. No, Jordan knows that this is the_ perfect _time to strike, if he’s going to shut Adam up. Just before the trial, when there’s not enough time to get his courage back up… so that if he tries to take the witness stand, all he’ll be able to think about… all he’ll be able to picture… is this room… the things Jordan said he’d do to him… Jordan’s_ hands _on him…_

A deep, smoldering anger began to coil, red hot, in Kris’s chest, at the unbidden mental image of Adam, terrified but forced to silence, shaken and pleading and terrorized in this tiny dressing room, while Kris remained blissfully ignorant just a few feet away, enjoying the flattering attention of one of his fans.

 

 _Except… she wasn’t,_ he realized, his eyes widening with sudden clarity. _She was just… a distraction. Someone he paid to keep me busy… long enough for him to… to get to Adam, and…_

Kris realized suddenly that he was shaking with rage, and he struggled to suppress his own reaction, at least for the moment. The trembling wreckage that Adam had been reduced to, collapsed and sobbing in his arms, was all the reminder he needed of where his attention needed to be focused, for the moment.

Gradually, however, Adam began to calm down. His sobs grew quieter, until finally they were nothing more than soft, quiet hitches of breath in his throat. A fine tremor still ran through his body, but he seemed to be regaining some semblance of control. Kris gently, cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back a little, just enough so that he could see his face.

“Adam? Look at me, darlin’.”

Adam obeyed, a shaky swallow visible in his throat as he raised tearful eyes to meet Kris’s solemn, questioning gaze.

“Did he hurt you, Adam? What did he do to you?”

“H-he… p-pulled my hair,” Adam whispered, lowering his gaze with the shame that was an automatic reaction for him at this point. “Put… put his hand around my throat, but… but he didn’t… didn’t really hurt me, no. I… I’m okay…”

“Okay.” Kris nodded, leaning down to rest his brow against Adam’s for a moment, letting out a slow breath in relief. “Okay… that’s good, Adam. You’re all right…”

Adam nodded, too, his breath catching in his throat as he pushed back a shivering sob.

Kris hugged him tight for a few moments, slowly running his hand up and down his back, before withdrawing to meet his eyes again. “I need to talk to the security guys… figure out how he got in here, okay?”

Adam’s shaking hands clung to Kris’s arms, instinctively pulling him closer as he shook his head, pleading. “D-don’t go… don’t…”

“Shh, I’ll be just outside the door. I’m not going anywhere. All right? You’ll be able to hear me from right here. Okay?”

Adam bit his lower lip, nodding reluctantly, though his grip on Kris’s arms didn’t ease. Kris had to carefully, gently free himself from Adam’s grasp before he could move. He cupped the back of Adam’s head tenderly with one hand, pressing a soft kiss against his temple before pulling back to whisper reassurance.

“I’m not going anywhere, babe. I’m right here.”

Adam nodded again, a little surer this time, and Kris rose to his feet and stepped outside the curtain, drawing it shut again behind him to protect Adam’s privacy. The two security guards were sitting on the waiting bench outside the dressing room when he stepped out, and they hurriedly rose to their feet, looking nervous and uncertain as Kris stalked toward them, his fury making him appear far more intimidating than his rather unimpressive size usually allowed. His voice was low, demanding, trembling with anger as he faced them, his arms crossed over his chest.

“How the _hell_ did this happen?”

**********************************************

“Yeah, I know. It’s ridiculous. The clerk said she came in through the back door that morning, but she was sure she’d locked it behind her… Yeah, well, _obviously_ she didn’t! … No, there’s only one camera back there, and she said it’s been broken for months… I guess they don’t bother, it’s not like they get a lot of shoplifters sneaking out the back door – or at all, for that matter… no, that’s the problem. There’s no way to prove he was even _there_. It’s his word against… yeah. I know… I know… I just can’t _believe_ we let this happen! _I_ let this happen! I was _right there_ , just a few feet away, and he was… if I just could have gotten into that room a few minutes faster…”

Adam huddled on the sofa, his knees drawn up under him, his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach, watching and listening uneasily as Kris paced back and forth across the living room floor, clearly agitated, gesturing wildly with one hand, his cell phone held to his ear with the other. He had been talking to Brad for the last ten minutes, filling him in on what had happened – his fury clear in every rapid, emphatic motion.

Adam was still shaking – had been shaking so long, in fact, that his entire body was beginning to ache with exhaustion. He felt sick, chilled with a cold that went deeper than anything physical, right into the depths of his broken, shell-shocked spirit. He tried to think about something, anything, but what had just happened to him – but his mind insisted on playing the entire encounter over and over again, in vivid, devastating detail. He closed his eyes, trying to shut it out, wishing that Kris would just hang up the phone and sit with him on the sofa… would just hold him and talk to him, tell him it would all be all right.

“Look, Brad, can you just come over here? We need you…”

Adam looked up, a puzzled frown creasing his brow as Kris’s words somehow managed to penetrate the fog that seemed to surround him.

 

 _Why? Why is he asking Brad to come over? I don’t need Brad, I need_ Kris… _Kris, please just stop and come here to me…_

As Kris disconnected the call and put the phone away, Adam scooted over a little on the sofa, making room for Kris to sit beside him, before cautiously trying to gain his boyfriend’s attention.

“Kris… _please_ …”

Adam’s voice was soft and tentative, barely audible – and Kris did in fact miss it, as he was already muttering under his breath.

“Stupid,” Kris snarled softly at no one in particular, shaking his head. “So _stupid_!”

As he spoke, he turned and smacked his open palm against the wall, then turned again and covered his face with his hands for a moment as he continued to pace back and forth – utterly oblivious to the flinch that Adam couldn’t quite suppress in response to the violent rage in Kris’s actions.

Adam wrapped his arms tighter around himself, biting down on his lower lip and forcing himself to keep quiet. He recognized the blind fury Kris was working himself into, and had learned in the past two years that when someone was in that particular state of mind, it was best to avoid getting in their way.

 

 _But… he’s not angry at_ me, _is he? And… Kris wouldn’t hurt me, no matter how angry he got…_

 

 _He wouldn’t… would he?_

When Brad showed up a little while later, he paused in the living room doorway, his expression softening with sadness when he saw Adam sitting on the couch. He glanced back and forth between Adam and Kris – who was still angrily pacing the floor – a puzzled frown on his face. After a moment, Brad swiftly went to Adam’s side, sitting down beside him and wrapping his arms around him.

“You okay, sweetie?” he asked softly, running one hand through Adam’s hair as he drew back, trying to make eye contact. “Adam? Look at me, love…”

Adam couldn’t bring himself to raise his eyes from the sofa between them. Instead, he just leaned into the familiar comfort of Brad’s arms, hiding his face against his shoulder and allowing the tears to come again. Over his shoulder, Brad turned his face toward Kris, disapproval clear in his voice.

“Kris, what the hell? What’s wrong with this picture?”

Kris was dismissive, clearly not really focused on Brad’s question as he snapped, “A damn lot is wrong with it – but I’m gonna do something about that. I’m glad you’re here. I need you to stay with Adam, okay?”

Adam raised his head abruptly, wide-eyed and panicked. His stomach dropped at Kris’s unexpected words; his heart immediately set to racing, his palms damp as he fought back the sick wave of terror that threatened to overwhelm him.

“Kris… don’t…” he whispered, shaking his head.

“Where are you going?” Brad demanded, incredulous. “Where could you possibly need to be besides right here?”

“There’s just… something important I need to take care of.”

Kris’s tone was deliberately evasive, and he averted his eyes the moment Adam’s made contact – but not before Adam could see the blazing determination in his dark, furious gaze. Adam froze, a sharp ache in his chest with the terrifying realization of what it was that Kris intended.

 

 _He’s going after Jordan… God,_ no… _please…_

He sat forward on the sofa, pulling out of Brad’s embrace, urgency in his trembling words. “Kris… _no_. Don’t…”

“Adam…” Kris’s voice was shaking too, but it carried a note of warning as he held up a halting hand and shook his head. “Look, I have to do this…”

“He’ll kill you!” Adam’s voice rose with his panic, and he stood up, taking a cautious step toward Kris. “Please, don’t _do_ this, Kris, it’s _crazy_ , I _need you_ …”

“I’ll be back before you know it…”

“No, you _won’t_!” Adam couldn’t stop the tears that streaked his face as he pleaded for Kris to see reason. “Please, Kris, don’t…”

“Adam, drop it, okay?” Kris snapped. “I’m going, and that’s it, so just let it go.”

Adam flinched at the sharp tone of Kris’s voice, his shoulders shaking with his tears as he sank back down onto the sofa in defeat; but Kris had already turned to go, and either didn’t see Adam’s reaction – or didn’t care. Brad put his arms around Adam again, protective and soothing at once, and Adam heard the indignation in his voice as he called out to Kris.

“Hey, _asshole_. You better get your fuckin’ priorities straight…!”

But the slamming of the front door abruptly made it clear that whatever else he might have said was pointless. Adam covered his face with his hands, his body jerking at the sharp sound – his heart sinking with the knowledge of what it signified.

 

 _Kris is going after Jordan… but he’s not strong enough… not trained like Jordan is… he doesn’t know what he’s getting into…_

Overwhelming panic and despair swept over Adam with the grim certainty that the worst of his fears were about to be realized.

 _Jordan’s going to kill him._


	53. Chapter 53

Kris rushed out to his car, ignoring whatever Brad was yelling at him as the door slammed behind him. He didn't really care what Brad – or anyone else, for that matter – thought of his plans. Really, he wasn't sure what he was going to do when he got to Jordan's house – _no,_ Adam's _house that Jordan_ stole _from him!_ – or how he would manage to overpower a man the size of about three of him. 

 

He didn't really care.

 

All he knew was that Jordan had gotten away with hurting Adam for the last time.

 

The screeching of tires and outraged honking of the car horns around him alerted Kris to the fact that he'd just run a red light – but he couldn't bring himself to be bothered by that fact at the moment. All he could picture was Jordan's smug, smirking face, privately exulting in the damage he'd done to Adam's fledgling confidence and security.

 

_He was doing so well!_ Frustrated tears welled in Kris's eyes, further impairing his driving skills, as he took the corner too sharply onto the street that was his destination. _He was finally starting to really feel safe, to be_ happy, _to know that he could get through this and be all right on the other side! And then Jordan had to come along and wreck him again – leave him so scared he could hardly function, and a day before the trial! He thinks he's won. He thinks he's gotten Adam so shaken up that he won't testify – and he may be right._

 

_But he's_ not _going to win this. He's not going to_ touch _Adam again, not ever._

 

_I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him first._

 

When Kris pulled up in front of Adam's former home, his heart momentarily sank at the sight of the locked, guarded security gate that he'd forgotten was there. But as he approached, the gate swung open, and the guard in his station waved Kris on through without asking him why he was there or to identify himself.

 

_So he's expecting me – and he wants me to know that he's not worried_ . Kris's lips quirked up into a grim smile as he drove through the entrance and up the driveway toward the house. _Good. He's underestimating me. That just might give me the upper hand..._

 

As Kris pulled the car to a stop in front of the house, he saw the door open and Jordan step outside onto the porch. His mind flew back to the night when he'd barely managed to talk Adam into leaving this place – the way Adam had broken down, humiliated and degraded by being locked out of his own house, all control over her own life stripped from him...

 

… by the man standing there now, a smug grin on his face, arms crossed, as he waited for Kris to approach.

 

Kris didn't keep him waiting long.

 

“You son of a bitch!” he snarled, his voice low and shaking with rage as he swiftly closed the distance between them, reaching out with both hands to shove Jordan in the chest, hard.

 

Jordan barely budged, his cold smile not fading. “I was wondering when you'd show up.”

 

“How _dare_ you!” Kris seethed, his fists clenched at his sides, twitching, itching to strike. “How dare you _touch_ him...”

 

“What makes you think I touched him?” Jordan raised his hands in a gesture of false innocence. “There's a restraining order against me. I _can't_ touch him or I'll go to jail.”

 

“Oh, trust me, you will!” Kris promised. “You're going to jail for a long time...”

 

“For what?” Jordan sneered. “Does he have any bruises? Any marks at all to prove that I laid a hand on him? No. Because... I didn't.” His steel grey eyes burned with cruel triumph as he crossed his arms over his chest again, taking a slow, intimidating step closer to Kris. “You can't prove a thing... because there's nothing to prove.”

 

Kris did not back down, holding Jordan's hard gaze, his own eyes blazing with fury, his words slow and measured, low and intent. “If you think for a _second_ that you are _ever_ going to touch him again and get away with it... you're wrong.”

 

“Don't you get it yet, Allen?” Jordan smirked, shaking his head sympathetically. “I already have. You'll see Monday morning.”

 

“No, _you_ will,” Kris insisted boldly. “You think you've got him so beaten down that he won't open his mouth; well, you don't know him as well as you think you do. Your entire relationship with him, you've underestimated him. He's stronger than you can imagine – and he's gonna put you in prison for a long, long time.”

 

Jordan's smile faded a little, and he stepped closer to Kris again, leaning down and lowering his voice to a soft tone of hushed, controlled confidence. “I'm going to walk away from that courtroom on Monday... and then I'm going to put you in the ground, you little shit.” Jordan's eyes narrowed with menace as he sneered, “Who do you think is going to come between Adam and me _then_ ?” When Kris was too angry to find the words to respond, Jordan's smile widened, and he continued with soft triumph. “He's _mine_ , Allen. And he always will be. All it's gonna take is a little reminding.”

 

Blind fury overcame Kris at the blatant threat to Adam, and he raised his fist to strike. Jordan easily ducked the blow, laughing, and Kris prepared to try again – just as the sound of blaring sirens filled their ears, to match the flashing lights reflecting off the side of the house in the gathering dusk.

 

“Stop!” one of the police officers called as he got out of his car. “Mr. Allen, I need you to step back!”

 

Frustration coiled tight in Kris's chest at the realization that the police were here to protect _Jordan_ from _him_ . 

 

“You don't know what he _did_!” he insisted, furious tears forming in his eyes as he turned to face the approaching officers. 

 

“We know why you're here, sir.” One of the officers – a man who looked to be about the age of Kris's father, with a gentle, sympathetic face – spoke up in a tone that was firm but kind. “And we also know that you already filed a police report about this earlier this afternoon. Now, the best thing you can do is to get off this man's property...”

 

“It's _not_ his property!” Kris fairly exploded. “He stole it, and now he's trying to...”

 

“Mr. Allen, please.” The officer caught Kris's arm as he moved toward Jordan again, pulling him back. “Technically, this home belongs to him, and you're trespassing. The best thing you can do right now is to just go home, and let us do our job. You won't be doing Adam any favors if you get yourself thrown in jail two days before the trial.”

 

Kris looked up at the taller man, still holding onto his arm and standing between him and Jordan, a startled expression on his face. The officer cleared his throat, looking away self-consciously before giving Kris a sad, rueful smile.

 

“My daughter... she's a big fan. She's been talking about your case for weeks...”

 

But the expression on Kris's face was not due to the officer's rather personal reference. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, his heart clenching painfully with the remembrance of where he really should have been, rather than here, making empty threats and posturing, and nearly damaging Adam's case with only a couple of days to spare.

 

_Adam... God,_ Adam... 

 

_You selfish idiot... what the hell are you doing?_

 

_***********************************************_

 

By the time Kris arrived back at home, he felt weary and drained, his earlier rage having deflated into an overwhelming feeling of sorrow and defeat. He still felt every bit as helpless as he'd felt earlier, when that very helplessness had driven him to try to _do_ something, _anything_ , to prevent Jordan from being able to harm Adam again. The trip across town that had felt so necessary in the moment had proven to be useless, leaving them no better off than they'd been a couple of hours earlier.

 

_In fact... maybe worse off... and it could have been so much worse, if the cops hadn't shown up in time..._

 

A rather satisfying image of Jordan's face, battered and bruised, filled Kris's mind – but that satisfaction was tainted by the knowledge of how that image might have affected the jury. Kris cringed when he thought of how his own behavior might have substantiated Jordan's very likely claims of how Kris had played a major part in convincing Adam to lie about Jordan in an attempt to get back the property he'd willingly signed away.

 

_He_ wanted _me to hit him. That's why he kept egging me on, trying to make me madder._

 

_If I had hurt him, I'd have been playing right into his hand._

 

Kris felt exhausted and discouraged and utterly foolish as he unlocked his front door and walked inside, stopping in the doorway to the living room for a moment. 

 

Brad was alone in the room, cross-legged on the sofa with the television remote in his hand. He looked up when he saw Kris, then calmly turned off the television and focused his attention on Kris, a single brow raised in a silent question.

 

“Don't worry, I didn't hurt him,” Kris explained with a weary sigh. “The cops showed up.”

 

“I know.” Brad's tone was cool, guarded. “I called them.”

 

Kris blinked, startled – but then slowly nodded. It made sense. “Thanks. It's... probably a really good thing you did. They got there in time to keep me from doing anything _really_ stupid.”

 

Kris turned and walked into the kitchen, setting down his keys on the table and taking down the box of flavored teas and the kettle that had come into common use in his home since Adam had moved in. He'd always found the habit of Adam's endearing, but tonight, Kris felt as if he could use a bit of soothing himself. 

 

He put the water on to heat, then found himself staring at the endless variety of teas in the box, unable to choose – unable to focus on anything but the mental image of Adam, smiling and happy as he'd described to Kris the various pros and cons of each type, which type was good for inducing what mood, and which were his personal favorites.

 

The peaceful, pleasant image was abruptly replaced in his mind by the image of Adam, shivering and sobbing in terror on the dressing room floor, his back pressed against the mirror as if he wanted nothing more than to sink into it and disappear. The sheer terror in his eyes, the panic and despair of knowing that no matter how he'd convinced himself that he was safe, he really, truly _wasn't_ – it overwhelmed Kris with a fresh wave of helpless rage, and he gripped the countertop with both trembling hands, struggling to rein it in.

 

_Keep it together. We've already established – this isn't helping._

 

_Keep it together, Kris. Adam needs you to be the strong one right now..._

 

Kris slowly forced himself to ease his grip on the counter, though his knuckles were white and his hands were shaking. He closed his eyes, struggling to regain control of his careening emotions.

 

“ _Seriously_?”

 

Kris looked up, blinking in confusion at Brad, who was standing in the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was one of incredulous disgust, and his very posture exuded outrage. 

 

“Seriously, Kris? They stopped you before you did anything _stupid_? _Really_?” Brad's tone was scathing, trembling with barely repressed fury as he slowly shook his head. “No. No, they really didn't.”

 

Kris frowned. “What are you talking about?”

 

Brad rolled his eyes, letting out a disgusted little huffing sound before giving Kris an utterly fake smile, his tone falsely bright as he mimicked Kris's voice with surprising accuracy, “'Hey, Brad, how's Adam? You know, my _recently traumatized_ boyfriend that I left in the middle of a fucking _panic attack_ to go play superhero so I could feel like a man?'” Brad's tone shifted, his eyes narrowed, as he pointedly answered the question Kris had failed to ask. “Gee, Kris, thanks for caring. Glad you asked. He's upstairs drugged unconscious, because he nearly sent himself into convulsions when you left him here when he needed you most, and _scared him the fuck out of his mind_ !”

 

Kris shook his head slowly, as Brad's words slowly started to sink in. “But... no. I wasn't... I mean, I didn't mean to...”

 

“Save it, Kris,” Brad snapped, glaring at Kris as he leaned back against the door frame, a deep sorrow mingled with the anger in his eyes. “Face it: you have seriously fucked up this time – and I'm not sure you're going to be able to fix it.”


	54. Chapter 54

Kris felt an uneasy sensation in the pit of his stomach as he tried to make sense of Brad's accusations, even through the distracted thoughts that filled his mind.

 

_Maybe I should have just pushed a little bit harder. If he had hit me, and the cops had seen it – at least they could have locked him up for a little while. At least Adam would be able to know that he'd be safe through Monday..._

 

He went over the entire encounter with Jordan in his mind, again and again, trying to think of a way in which he could have made it work out better, and all the ways in which it could have turned out so much worse. The more he thought about it, the more he began to feel pretty stupid about the whole thing, and the more he'd begun to realize that he'd let his temper get the better of him, and made a very poor choice in going to confront Jordan in the first place.

 

_No, it's a really good thing I_ didn't _hit him,_ Kris decided. _If I had gotten arrested, right before the trial... that's the last thing Adam needs right now..._

 

Kris glanced in annoyance at Brad, who was just standing there in the doorway glaring at him, arms crossed over his chest, as if waiting for some kind of explanation.

 

_And the last thing_ I _need is Brad coming down on me the second I walk in the door. Anyway, it's not like it's_ that _bad. Adam freaked out, yeah, but... these days, that's kind of... normal. Brad just has no idea what it's like, because he's not_ here _all the time... dealing with this_ every day _..._

 

“Nothing happened,” Kris insisted with an impatient sigh. “You were here, so Adam wasn't alone... and no one got hurt...”

 

“ _Adam_ got hurt,” Brad snapped. “Don't you get it, moron? He needed _you_ just now – not me – and you just took off, trying to be some kind of fucking hero...” Brad was quiet for a moment, shaking his head, but his dark eyes were blazing with protective fury. “He doesn't need you to be his bodyguard, Kris. He just needs you to be his _boyfriend_. He was so... so _scared_...”

 

“He was scared because of what Jordan did,” Kris argued, though he could feel a tight knot forming, clenching around his heart. Even as he tried to justify his reckless actions, the cutting accusation in Brad's voice tore past his defenses, leaving him with a sense of uneasy uncertainty.

 

_It couldn't possibly have been as bad as he's making it sound... could it?_

 

“Yeah. Scared that you were going to get yourself killed by a _raging psychopath_ who's five times your size! _Seriously,_ Kris!” The disbelief and disgust in Brad's voice made Kris's face feel hot, and he swallowed hard, unable to meet Brad's eyes. “Kris, what the hell were you thinking?”

 

“It was stupid, okay?” Kris admitted, agitated. “I get that now...” He looked away, the heaviness in his chest tightening as he swallowed back the knot that had formed in his throat, then forced himself to look up at Brad again, a reluctant question in his eyes. “So... I guess he's probably pretty pissed at me right now, huh?”

 

“'Pissed' is not exactly the word I would have chosen. You still don't get it at all, do you?” Brad's eyes narrowed, his voice taking on a dangerously soft note. “When you left here, he was convinced that you weren't going to be coming back, Kris. _At all_.”

 

Kris flinched, closing his eyes and shaking his head in dismay as he tried not to imagine the scene that Brad was describing.

 

_Adam_ was _really upset when I left... but I didn't have a choice. I couldn't just let Jordan get away with what he did..._

 

“I called the cops, not so much because I felt like you deserved to be saved from your own idiocy – but because _Adam_ was _frantic_ ,” Brad continued, his voice trembling slightly, his dark eyes glittering with the release of his helpless frustration. “He was _sure_ that Jordan was going to end up killing you. I told him the cops were on their way to stop you, and they wouldn't let anything happen to you, but... it didn't help. _Nothing_ did. He was freaking out like I've never seen him before, Kris. I... I called his mom, because... he wasn't hearing anything I had to say, and... and I've never seen him like that...”

 

Kris wasn't sure which was doing more to intensify his guilt – the accusation, or the tears in Brad's voice as he described Adam's reaction to his rash, ill-fated choice to go after Jordan. He couldn't raise his eyes from the counter top, couldn't bring himself to defend his actions, or even speak at all – so Brad went on.

 

“Turns out, Leila's never seen him like that, either. He was on the verge of a total nervous breakdown. Like, really fucking losing it, Kris. So... she called his doctor. He had to give him a _sedative_. That's how totally freaked out he was.” Brad sounded pretty freaked out himself, his voice shaking dangerously, his words halting and stricken with the lingering emotions from the incident he was describing. “He was crying so hard he could barely breathe at one point.” Brad was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, there was a bitter, scathing note layered over the tremor in his words. “Did you know that a person can actually _cry_ hard enough to send himself into a _seizure_? I didn't, before tonight – when Adam almost did it. That's why his doctor felt that the sedative was necessary.”

 

“I... I was just trying to protect him.” Kris's words sounded weak, even to his own ears. “I didn't... mean to freak him out so bad...”

 

“He thought you were going to _die_ , Kris.” Brad's voice was softer, but no less emphatic. “You have to remember – this is the guy who almost _killed_ him, multiple times. Beat him until he couldn't stand up. Choked him until he passed out. In Adam's mind – this is the guy who still holds all the power. And – if he could do all that to _Adam_ , what do you think he could do to _you_? He literally thought he was _never going to see you again_ , Kris.”

 

Kris's stomach lurched at the thought of Adam's panic, and the painful guilt of the knowledge that he had not been there for him when he'd been needed – that he had let Adam down.

 

_I have to talk to him... have to make him know that I'm all right, that everything's okay..._

 

Kris turned on his heel and headed toward the stairs – but Brad's voice stopped him before he could reach them.

 

“He's sedated, remember?” Brad's tone softened slightly when Kris turned to face him. “He's going to be out for a few hours, at least. Leila's sitting up there with him right now.”

 

Kris let out a heavy sigh, hesitating a moment before making his way back to the kitchen counter. His hands shook as he anxiously set about making his tea again, just to give himself something to do. If Adam was asleep, there was nothing he could do for him by going to him now – and given everything that Brad had described to him, Kris was not exactly eager to face Leila Lambert at the moment.

 

He could just imagine how furious she must have been at him right then – and after hearing about Adam's reaction, Kris could hardly blame her. He cringed to think of Adam's panic when he'd left, his face flaming with shame for his own rash, reckless actions, and how they'd hurt the one person he loved more than anyone else in the world.

 

“I just... Jordan scared him so bad, and... and I couldn't just _let_ him...”

 

“You realize that when you ran out of here earlier... Jordan wasn't the only one he was scared of... right?” Brad's words were low and measured, and when Kris finally managed to process his words enough to turn his stunned gaze slowly back toward Brad, Brad's expression was pointed with accusation.

 

Wait... _what_ ?” Kris shook his head in confusion, a troubled frown creasing his brow. “What are you saying?”

 

“He was crying so hard when you left... he flinched like you'd slapped him when you slammed that door...” Brad shook his head, raising his hands in front of him in a gesture that might have been apologetic – but there was no apology in his flat, matter-of-fact explanation. “I don't know you, Kris. I don't know how far I can trust you with him, and... and he was scared out of his mind. I asked him... if anything happened, before I showed up. If you... _did_ anything... to him...”

 

Kris's mouth opened in preparation for an outraged protest – that died on his lips as Brad continued, his words making Kris's heart clench in his chest with regret and disbelief.

 

“He said no, you hadn't hurt him, just yelled a lot... and that you'd never done that before, never yelled at him like that. He kept saying, 'He's so angry, he's so angry, he won't stop...”

 

Kris flinched, his mind racing back to the blurred moments he'd spent with Adam before driving across town to confront Jordan.

 

_Did I... did I_ yell _at him? I don't remember..._

 

“I called you an asshole...”

 

“I deserved it,” Kris whispered, staring off at the wall, his heart aching as he imagined how he must have looked to _Adam's_ eyes, in those enraged moments when all he'd been able to think about was somehow making Jordan pay for what he'd done.

 

“Totally.” Brad offered no argument or absolution. “But he didn't think so. You know what he said?”

 

Kris was silent, bracing himself, not sure that he wanted to know the answer. In fact, from the dark, angry expression in Brad's eyes, he was pretty sure he didn't want to know.

 

“He said, 'I always do this. It's my fault. I shouldn't have pissed him off.'”

 

Kris's stomach lurched with horror, and he shook his head slowly, in automatic denial of the sickening truth. He didn't want to believe that Adam might have felt that way – might have compared Kris's behavior to what he was used to from his relationship with Jordan, and blamed _himself_ for that behavior...

 

_But... it makes sense..._

 

Realization sank in, and Kris felt sick as the pieces began to fall together in his mind.

 

_Right after Jordan attacked him... terrorized him... went on about how he's never going to escape, how he's helpless... damaged... worthless... how he deserved it and it was all his fault... and just when he needs me most to be there for him, to reassure him... to come against those lies..._

 

_all I do is reinforce them._

 

_I've never yelled at Adam before._ Never. _And I had to pick_ now _, of all times?_

 

_Now, when he's most vulnerable? When he's on the verge of what might be the most important day of his life, the most terrifying thing he's ever had to do, and he needs my_ support, a _nd I manage to freak him out even_ more _?_

 

_You're an idiot, Kris Allen. A fucking moron, and he deserves so much better than this..._

 

Kris felt the anger swelling up within him, frustrated and helpless with the knowledge of how badly he'd screwed everything up, and how much damage he'd likely done, how far he'd probably set back Adam's progress toward healing – and then he heard a loud, crystalline crash that drew him out of his thoughts.

 

He stared blankly at the fragmented pieces of his favorite coffee mug, on the floor across the room, next to the wall against which the mug had shattered – not quite understanding how it had gotten there from his tightly clenched grip.

 

A moment later, Brad was across the room and standing right in front of him, utterly unintimidated by his display of violence. In fact, there was nothing but sheer disgust and fury in Brad's voice as he got right in Kris's face, pointing at the mess and declaring in a fierce, commanding tone,

 

“ _That_ , Kris Allen, is exactly the kind of _stupid shit_ that Adam does not _ever_ need to see from you, don't you get that? Are you really that thick? You have got to get your shit under control, _right the fuck now_ , Kris! Because _Adam_ is the only one with a free pass to be falling apart right now, do you understand me? Adam needs you, and here you are... behaving like a... a stupid... fucking... Kris?”

 

Brad's voice gradually lost its fire, and then trailed off completely, as Kris's shoulders began to shake with the sobs that he could no longer hold back. He raised the back of one shaking hand to cover his eyes, shaking his head and struggling to choke back the tears, but without success.

 

“Hey, Kris... don't, come on...” Brad's tone shifted from anger to discomfort, and he reached out a gentle, if awkward, hand to rest on Kris's shoulder. “It's... it's okay, Kris. Come on, don't...” Abruptly he let out a heavy sigh of resignation as he gave in and put his arms around Kris's trembling frame. “Come here,” he murmured as he led Kris back toward the table and sat him down, sitting down beside him, his voice hushed and soothing. “It's okay, Kris. Everything's going to be okay...”


	55. Chapter 55

“Look, I… I’m sorry I flipped out on you like that, Kris.” Brad sighed, reaching across the table to gently squeeze Kris’s wrist in a cautious display of comfort. “It’s just… you didn’t _see_ him like that, you know? I did, and… it just _did_ things to me, Kris. Seeing Adam so… so freaked out like that. I’m sorry, but…”

 

“No.”

 

Kris cut him off softly, shaking his head, his voice hoarse from the tears that had barely dried on his face. He hadn’t seen his breakdown coming until it had overwhelmed him completely; and now that he’d finally managed to regain his composure, he was too exhausted to feel any embarrassment over his emotional explosion – even in front of Brad.

 

No, the shame that coiled in his chest was due to something far more serious than a few unexpected tears.

 

“No… I’m the one who should be sorry,” Kris sighed as he closed his eyes, lowering his head into one hand and drawing in a deep, shaky breath. He could hear the exhaustion and defeat in his own voice, and it only increased the drained, weary feeling that was slowly spreading through him. “I… I screwed up. I… can’t really imagine a way in which I could have screwed up _worse_ , actually. It’s just…” He shook his head in frustration. “… I’ve just been trying so hard for… for so _long_ , and… when I couldn’t… couldn’t keep Adam safe… couldn’t protect him… it was just… just _too much_ …”

 

“I get it.” Brad nodded, giving Kris a rueful, sympathetic smile. “It’s just… all these weeks, and you couldn’t have held it in for another twenty-four hours?”

 

“I know, right?” Kris sighed, running a hand through his hair with a self-deprecating laugh. “If I could have just held it together until after the trial…”

 

“Adam _still_ might not have been okay, after the shit Jordan pulled today,” Brad pointed out, glancing uneasily toward the stairs. “The way I see it – you’ve got some _serious_ damage control to get through in the next few hours.”

 

“Yeah.” Kris followed Brad’s gaze with a little grimace of dread. “So… I guess I’d better get started, then.”

 

Kris braced himself for the worst as he made his way slowly up the stairs, reminding himself that whatever anger and accusation Leila Lambert saw fit to throw his way was more than deserved. That knowledge, however, did not make the prospect of facing her any less terrifying.

 

He knocked softly on the closed door of his bedroom, holding his breath and waiting for a response.

 

“Come in.”

 

Leila’s voice was muffled, barely audible, and Kris knew that Adam was still asleep and she was trying not to wake him. She sounded calm enough, and Kris was suddenly grateful that she hadn’t asked who was there, because he was fairly certain she wouldn’t have willingly invited him in.

 

Kris hesitantly slipped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He froze when he saw Adam lying in the bed, then noted with relief that he seemed to be at peace – his chest rising and falling with his slow, even breaths; his lips parted and slack with sleep. Leila held his left hand in hers as she sat beside the bed, regarding Kris with a quietly speculative expression.

 

He swallowed hard, his stomach lurching, and he suddenly found that he couldn’t meet her gaze. “Leila, I… I’m so sorry,” he blurted out abruptly. “I just… I wasn’t thinking clearly… Jordan scared him so bad, and… and I just freaked out. I didn’t… didn’t mean to…”

 

Before he even knew she’d moved, Leila was out of her seat and had crossed the room to Kris, wrapping her arms around him tightly, sweeping him into a fierce and utterly unexpected embrace. Kris froze, startled, as she held him close, one hand rising to cup the back of his head in a gesture of motherly affection. After a moment, she drew back to meet Kris’s gaze, her own severe and brutally honest.

 

“What you did was very stupid, Kris. Reckless. _Dangerous_. You could have cost Adam his entire case tomorrow…”

 

Kris nodded, lowering his gaze in submissive acceptance of her words, the southern manners he’d been raised with automatically kicking in. “Yes, ma’am…”

 

“… and I would have done _exactly_ the same thing.” Kris looked up, startled by her words, bewildered when he saw the warmth and affectionate understanding in her expression. She smiled at his obvious shock, something hard and dangerous glittering in her eyes as she pleaded, “Tell me you at least got in a good punch or two.”

 

Kris couldn’t help laughing as he shook his head apologetically. “No. Sorry.”

 

She nodded, letting out a soft sigh of acceptance. “Probably for the best.” She glanced sadly back toward Adam before meeting Kris’s eyes again and nodding toward the seat she’d just vacated. “Go ahead and stay with him for a while. I have to make a call.”

 

**********************************

 

Kris had dozed off himself by the time Adam finally awakened, his hand firmly clasped around Adam’s.

 

He felt the slight movement under his own hand even through sleep, and sat up quickly, blinking, a little disoriented. He glanced at the clock and saw that nearly an hour had passed since he’d last noticed the time. He turned his gaze anxiously toward Adam, who was frowning a little as he drifted back toward consciousness, his hand instinctively grasping Kris’s as he shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

 

“Adam?” Kris rose from his chair and sat down on the side of the bed instead, reaching out a gentle hand to cup Adam’s cheek as he opened his eyes. “I’m right here, babe. Are you okay?”

 

Adam didn’t answer at first, staring blankly up at Kris as if not really seeing him. Suddenly, he drew in a sharp, shuddering breath and practically launched himself across the bed and into Kris’s arms. Kris’s heart clenched with guilt and sorrow as he felt Adam’s body quaking with sobs against his, Adam’s hands clutching at him with agonizing desperation.

 

“Kris,” Adam whispered, again and again, seemingly unable to form any more coherent thought than that. “Kris… God, _Kris_ …”

 

“Shhh,” Kris soothed him, stroking a steadying hand through Adam’s hair and holding him close. “It’s all right… I’m right here, babe. I’m safe. We _both_ are. Everything’s all right, Adam, everything’s just fine…”

 

“I th-thought…” Adam struggled to get the words out, breathless and tearful. “I thought… I thought you were _dead,_ Kris!”

 

“I know,” Kris whispered, closing his eyes against the regretful tears that filled them, slowly running his hand up and down Adam’s back in an attempt to soothe him. “I know, Adam… and I’m _so sorry_. I just… I just wanted to protect you, you know? He… he _touched_ you, and… and scared you, and… I’m supposed to be taking care of you. I’m supposed to be keeping you safe, and I let him get to you, and I… I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t just… let him get away with it. I… I know you didn’t want me to go, and I know now that it was stupid, but… I really thought I was doing what you _needed_ , you know?”

 

As Kris gave his rambling, awkward explanation, cringing inwardly at its obvious inadequacy, Adam gradually went still in his arms. Kris fell silent, waiting for some kind of response – but Adam offered none. He kept his face buried against Kris’s shoulder, his hands still clinging to Kris as if he feared he might disappear if he let go – but he was no longer crying, no longer making a sound at all.

 

Kris found it more than a little unsettling.

 

He cleared his throat, still gently stroking Adam’s back, as he offered one small piece of good news. “We, uh… we still have to go to court tomorrow, but your mom called the prosecutor’s office, and she said she’s going to ask for a week’s extension, because of the investigation into Jordan’s little stunt today. She seems pretty sure that we’ll get it, too. So… that should give us a little time to pull ourselves together before we have to face him in court…”

 

Adam still remained silent, and Kris began to feel a little worried.

 

He drew back a little, trying to get Adam to raise his head so that he could see his face. Adam reluctantly loosened his grip on Kris, sitting up a little, but kept his gaze focused downward, somewhere around Kris’s knees. His breath was still a little shaky and uneven, his face streaked with tears, but he was unsettlingly calm and composed. Kris found himself wondering if it was due to some lingering effect of the sedative he’d been given – or something else.

 

“Adam?” he pressed gently, ducking his head and trying to make eye contact. “Babe? Talk to me. Are you… are you okay?”

 

Adam grimaced, rolling his eyes a little, and Kris felt his face flush with embarrassment.

 

 _Yeah. Really stupid question._

 

Finally, Adam broke the silence, and the painfully hoarse sound of his voice – stripped raw, no doubt, by the screaming and sobbing that Brad had described to Kris in such ruthless detail – only served to intensify Kris’s guilt.

 

“I… I’m really glad you’re okay, Kris.”

 

Kris frowned, an uneasy feeling building in the pit of his stomach at the strangely distant, detached tone of Adam’s voice.

 

“Adam, I’m really _so sorry_ …”

 

“I want to make an appointment with a psychologist.”

 

Kris fell silent abruptly when Adam cut him off, his voice low and calm, certain in a way that suggested he’d put some thought into the statement – though exactly _when_ , Kris had no idea. He frowned slightly, puzzled – but then slowly smiled, nodding, trying to accept that this was actually a _good_ development. He’d been trying for weeks to get Adam to accept some kind of therapy, with no success. This was a triumph.

 

 _So… why doesn’t it_ feel _like one?_

 

“That’s great, Adam,” he assured him, keeping his one encouraging and positive. “I’m really glad. We can make you an appointment with Dr. Harlin…”

 

“No, um…” Adam interrupted, his voice steadier, stronger, though he still wouldn’t quite meet Kris’s eyes. “I think… I want to choose my own doctor. Thanks, though. But… I want to find someone myself.”

 

Kris blinked, a little taken aback. It was more initiative than he was used to Adam taking these days; and he’d always assumed that whenever Adam was finally ready to get some kind of therapy, it would be under the same doctor who’d been seeing him and Leila.

 

 _It’s better if it’s the same person seeing all of us, right? So she knows all the details? Or… maybe that’s_ not _better. Maybe it just makes her biased? I don’t know…_

 

“Hey, whatever you want, Adam,” Kris finally replied. “Whatever you’re most comfortable with, that’s what we’ll do…”

 

“Yeah.” Adam’s response was strangely short and sharp, his jaw set stubbornly. “It is. Because it’s up to _me_.”

 

Kris frowned. “Well, of _course_ it is…”

 

“Look, Kris, I’m… kinda really exhausted. It’s been… a nightmare of a day, and… and I know I’ve been sleeping for hours, but I feel like I could sleep for days more, so… so do you think maybe you could just… give me a little space? Just… let me rest for a little while?”

 

Kris forced a smile to his lips, trying to hide the hurt and surprise caused by Adam’s words. Adam had only just woke up, and Kris had expected him to want to spend a bit more time with him; he felt more than a little rejected by Adam’s decision, but reminded himself that this was not about what he wanted, but about what Adam _needed_.

 

 _You’ve made enough of a wreck of things for now,_ he reminded himself. _Just let Adam be, if that’s what he wants right now. Can’t blame him if he’s pissed, after the way you walked out on him earlier…_

 

“Sure, Adam,” he agreed, leaning in to press a light kiss against Adam’s cheek. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me, babe.”

 

Adam did not respond, just stared down at the bed as Kris rose to his feet and headed toward the door. Once Kris let go of him, Adam lay back down on the bed, turning on his side, facing away from the door. Kris hesitated in the doorway, desperate to somehow bridge the strange sense of distance and disconnection that seemed to have fallen between them.

 

“Adam?” he added softly. “I… like I said, I’m… really sorry.” He hesitated a moment before adding, “I love you.”

 

No response came from the still form on the bed, and Kris found himself wishing that he could see Adam’s face, hoping that the sedative had taken Adam under again, and he was not simply choosing not to answer. When only silence met his words, Kris walked out of the room in defeat, closing the door behind him.


	56. Chapter 56

_“I love you.”_

 

Adam lay there in silence, wrestling with his own will. He wanted to ask Kris to come back, to just hold him tight and take comfort in the fact that he had come back safe and whole – which was far more than he had expected. He wanted to at least turn over and return Kris’s words – because no matter how upset he was right now, he still meant them as much as Kris did. He _wanted_ to say them.

 

He didn’t.

 

He waited, tense and quiet, half-afraid that Kris would turn around and come back and demand to know what was wrong, what he was thinking – and half- _hoping_ that he would. He didn’t want to have to face Kris right now, to try to explain how he felt – but the thought of just letting him walk away filled Adam with a cold, heavy sense of loneliness and despair.

 

He was so desperately, horribly confused.

 

Adam had nearly lost his mind when Kris had left to confront Jordan. He’d finally fallen into a drug-induced sleep, terrified that Kris would never come back to him alive – and then he had awakened to Kris’s comforting arms around him. The mental and emotional shift was so abrupt that at first, he’d barely been able to process it, hadn’t been able to react beyond simply grabbing Kris and holding onto him, desperate just to reassure himself that he was _real_ and _safe_ and _alive_.

 

He should have been happy, should have been relieved that Kris was okay; but the more comforting words Kris offered, the more he tried to explain himself – the more Adam’s relief had surrendered to sheer, consuming _anger_. Suddenly, Adam was no longer hearing Kris’s words, his thoughts overwhelmed with the furious sense of betrayal he felt.

 

 _How could he_ do _this to me? How could he put himself in danger like that, when he_ knows _how much I need him? If anything happened to him right now, I’m not sure I’d be able to go on at all. I’d probably lose it for good. How could he not even_ think _about that? How could he not see how much he was hurting me – how badly he was_ scaring _me?_

 _I begged him not to go. I told him what I wanted, what I needed from him… I_ begged _him… and he didn’t care. He just walked away, anyway – and then he has the nerve to say that he did it because he thought it was what was_ best _for me? Who gave him the right to_ decide _what’s best for me?_

 _Does he have any idea how much he reminded me of_ Jordan _tonight?_

Adam lay there in miserable silence, trying to make sense of his confusing thoughts. Anger and hurt mingled with regret, as he thought back over the past few weeks, and his own behavior that had certainly contributed to Kris’s mistakes. He cringed when he thought of how clingy and insecure he’d been, how willing to allow Kris to simply take over for him.

 

 _It’s not_ all _Kris’s fault. It’s not like I’ve been Mr. Decisive lately. I’ve_ refused _to make my own decisions, and by doing that, I’ve_ made _him make them for me. Is it really his fault if by now, it’s become second nature to him? If now he thinks he_ has _to?_

Adam’s stomach sank as a familiar suspicion crept in around the edges of his thoughts.

 _Maybe… maybe it’s something wrong with_ me.

 

 _The same thing happened with Jordan, didn’t it? I just stopped making my own decisions – little by little, just let him take over until my entire life was under his control. I thought that was something he did_ to _me, but… was it, really? Or did I just do the same thing with Jordan that I’ve been doing with Kris?_

 _Am I just so weak and incompetent that any man I let into my life feels the need to take charge, to make these big important decisions and manage my life for me – because I obviously just_ suck so badly _at it?_

 

Adam closed his eyes, fighting back the frustrated, despairing tears that rose to his eyes. He swallowed hard and shook his head slowly, his jaw clenching with determination, despite his confusion.

 

 _It doesn’t matter how we got here – doesn’t matter how this happened._

 _I can’t let him do this anymore._

 _I can’t… I can’t_ make _him do this anymore._

 _It doesn’t matter what his motives are – or mine, for that matter. If I keep depending on Kris for every little thing, whether either of us wants it to be that way or not – eventually, things are going to be just like they were with Jordan._

 _If I ever want to get my own life back  – I’m going to have to find a way to start living it on my own again._

 _********************************************_

Much to Kris’s relief, Adam was not required to be at court the following morning. On the off chance that the judge might deny the prosecutor’s request for a stay, he would have had to be there; but the prosecutor had told them to stay home, and that she would call and let them know what the judge’s decision was. If the trial was to proceed that day, there would still be time for Adam and Kris to make it to the court house before it was time for them to testify.

 

A half an hour after the proceedings were scheduled to begin, the prosecutor had called back and told them that the judge had granted their request.

 

Adam had been unusually calm and quiet while they waited for the call – the three of them dressed to appear in court, just in case – but when Leila hung up the phone and let him know that he would not have to face the trial, and testifying, and _Jordan_ , for another week, his relief had been unmistakable. He’d let out a deep, shuddering breath, lowering his face into his hands, his shoulders trembling.

 

Kris wanted nothing more than to comfort Adam, and tried to put his arm around him; but before he could touch him, Adam abruptly rose to his feet and walked out of the room. Leila followed her son’s retreat with her eyes, a worried frown on her face, before sitting down beside Kris and putting her arm around him.

 

“He’ll come around,” she promised. “Just give him a little time.”

 

“I just wish I knew what’s going on in his head right now,” Kris confessed miserably. “I just… wish he’d _talk_ to me.”

 

“He will,” Leila insisted. “When he’s _ready_.”

 

At least Adam seemed to finally be ready to talk to _someone_.

 

After changing out of his dress clothes, he spent the afternoon with a phone book in front of him and his cell phone in his hand, calling and checking on various therapists. Kris offered to help, but Adam coolly informed him that he didn’t need any help.

 

“Be sure you ask them for references,” Kris suggested. “They should have them, if they’re any good. You know – former patients who don’t mind you talking to them about the therapist…”

 

“I know what _references_ are, Kris,” Adam snapped, and Kris was fairly certain he’d never heard Adam use such a sharp, resentful tone before – at least not with _him_. “I’m not a child. I can handle this.”

 

Feeling hurt and embarrassed, Kris ducked his head, looking away. “I’m just trying to help,” he mumbled defensively.

 

“Yeah, well, when I need your help, I’ll ask for it,” Adam retorted, but there was an edge to his voice that made it quite clear that whether or not he actually _needed_ help, he wouldn’t be asking for it anytime soon.

 

Defeated, Kris reluctantly decided that he was going to have to just wait for Adam to come to him. He kept his distance for the rest of the day, resisting the temptation to seek Adam out and ask him whether or not he’d found a therapist. He kept telling himself that Leila was right, and when Adam was ready, he would come to Kris.

 

But when midnight came and went, and Kris found himself alone in his bed for the first time since shortly after Adam had moved in with him, a cold knot of genuine fear began to form in the pit of his stomach. When he finally got up and went to look for Adam, only to find him sound asleep in the guest bedroom, Kris felt as if he was going to be sick.

 

 _Was Brad right? Did I blow it completely, beyond any chance of repair?_

 _Have I really lost him for good?_

 _****************************************_

 

Adam didn’t say anything to Kris the following morning, either. In fact, Kris only learned about Adam’s 11:00 appointment with a therapist when Leila told him – twenty minutes after Adam had already left.

 

“If it makes you feel any better, he wouldn’t let me go with him, either,” she informed him gently.

 

Kris raised his head from his folded arms on the kitchen table, not even attempting to hide the misery that he knew was clear on his face. “It doesn’t,” he replied flatly. “At least he told you he was going.”

 

“Because he _had_ to tell _someone,_ Kris,” Leila pointed out. “He’s not taking any chances after what happened with Jordan, and…”

 

“And he couldn’t stand the thought of actually saying more than two words to _me_ , so he had to tell you,” Kris finished sadly, turning his head away, fighting back the frustrated tears that rose to his eyes.

 

Leila reached across the table to place a gentle, reassuring hand on his arm – a gesture which certainly didn’t help his efforts. He looked up at her, swallowing with difficulty, barely able to see her through the sheen of his tears.

 

“I know I screwed up,” he whispered thickly. “I know. But… he’s got to forgive me eventually, right? I mean… I guess he _doesn’t_ , but…”

 

“Kris, I’m… not so sure that this is _about_ forgiveness,” Leila slowly suggested with a pensive frown. “I think that Adam’s just trying to work through some things right now, without any input that might be… confusing _…_ for him. And if that’s the case, then this therapy session might be the best possible thing – not just for Adam, but for both of you.”

 

Kris considered that, nodding slowly, though he didn’t really feel all that encouraged.

 

“He took security with him,” Leila reassured him. “And he gave me the address. They won’t let anything happen to him, Kris. He’s going to be just fine.”

 

Kris felt a little guilty at the realization that the idea of Adam being “just fine” without him was not exactly comforting.

 

 _If he’s trying to go it alone for a while… trying to be strong… then I should let him. I should be_ happy _for him. This might be a_ good _thing…_

 

His guilt only intensified with the relief he felt when his cell phone rang nearly an hour later – and Adam’s name was displayed on the screen.

 

“Hey.” He tried to sound casual as he answered it – as if he hadn’t spent the last day and a half desperately wishing that his boyfriend would just _speak_ to him. “You okay?”

 

“Kris?”

 

Kris frowned, surprised and disappointed when the voice that answered him was not Adam’s. It _was_ familiar, though – and Kris felt his stomach clench uneasily as he recognized the voice of his head security guard.

 

“Derek. What’s going on? Why are you calling me on Adam’s phone?” Kris didn’t mean to sound so terse, but fear sharpened his tone. “Derek, is Adam all right?”

 

There was only silence on the line for a long moment before Derek’s voice finally replied, guarded and cautiously calm in a way that only served to increase Kris’s sense of impending panic.

 

“No – no, he’s not. Kris – something’s happened. We need you to come down here right away.”


	57. Chapter 57

_Well… that wasn’t so bad…_

 

Adam stepped out onto the sidewalk, flanked by his security guards, going over the past hour in his head and analyzing the conversation he’d had with the therapist. He’d dreaded the appointment from the moment he’d decided to schedule it; he hated the idea of talking to a total stranger about the confusing thoughts and feelings that he wasn’t even comfortable bringing up with the people who were closest to him.

 

It didn’t matter.

 

Adam knew that if he wanted to take back control of his own life and learn how to make it on his own again, he didn’t really have much of a choice. He couldn’t get past his fears and insecurities as long as he was leaning on someone else for all his support. So, despite his misgivings – despite the fact that the moment he left the house, without Kris, he wanted nothing more than to run back inside and into Kris’s arms – Adam forced himself to go through with his plan.

 

And… it wasn’t as bad as he had expected.

 

The conversation hadn’t been too uncomfortable. Granted, they had stuck to issues that were closer to the surface, for today – nothing that she couldn’t have read for herself in the newspaper if she’d wanted – but considering that he hadn’t yet spoken to anyone but Kris and his mom about the specifics of the abuse, Adam still felt like it was progress.

 

Dr. Moore was warm and gentle, yet sharp and perceptive enough that Adam knew he wouldn’t be able to hide things from her as easily as he could from most others in his life. She reminded him a lot of his mom, actually – a fact which he was fairly certain would make it a lot easier for him to open up – _eventually_.

 

Her office was very discreet, as well. It was located in a high rise office building that was home to dozens of other businesses as well. The sign outside her door held only her name, without revealing the specifics of her profession. There was an intercom system at the door, where Adam identified himself by name and with a four-digit identification number he’d chosen when he’d made the appointment. Then, the door was unlocked to allow him inside, while his security waited for him in the lobby.

 

Not even Adam’s own employees knew the nature of the appointment to which they’d accompanied him.

 

The only problem was that even discussing the very basics of what had gone on between him and Jordan had brought it all to the forefront of his mind in a way that Adam had tried very hard to avoid for the past few weeks. His thoughts were consumed with troubling memories, vivid images of past terror, his every nerve taut with wary apprehension.

 

 _You say anything, Adam… you open your stupid fucking mouth to_ anyone… _and I’ll_ kill _you…_

 

A shiver went down Adam’s spine, and he swallowed hard, his mouth dry and his palms damp, a sick sensation of fear in the pit of his stomach. He closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head unconsciously, trying to clear his mind of the echoes of Jordan’s chilling threats.

 

 _It’s too late to worry about that now. You’ve already disobeyed every order he ever gave you… and long before today…_

Adam opened his eyes, struggling to steady his nerves. The car was only a few hundred feet away now. He could see it from here. His guards were on either side of him, and there was no way that Jordan or anyone else could get to him before he got there.

 

 _But what if he has somebody watching, like he did the other day, when he… when he found me? Surely_ someone _has to know that there’s a psychiatrist’s office in that building. Anyway, it can’t be that difficult to find out._

 _What if they’re calling him, right now, and telling him? What if he’s making plans right now to come after me again?_

Adam’s heart was racing, and his fingernails dug into his damp palms as he fought to keep himself calm, trying to keep the fear that had become second nature at bay.

 

 _Don’t think about him… don’t think about any of it, just keep walking… keep moving… just a few more steps…_

 

A flash of light to his right drew Adam’s attention, nothing more than the glint of sunlight against the rearview mirror of a parked car; but it brought back a similar image to his mind, vivid and sinister – and suddenly, all of Adam’s good intentions fled, and he found himself consumed with panic, trapped in the darkness of the past as his memories closed in on him, shutting out everything else.

 

*****************************************

 

 _“You really have no idea how much you_ humiliate _me, do you, Adam?” Jordan snapped as he jerked off the soft grey scarf around his neck, throwing it angrily down on the kitchen table._

 _“I’m sorry,” Adam softly offered, subdued and quiet as he followed Jordan into the kitchen, slowly taking off his coat. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to.”_

 _His eyes were downcast, his heart racing in his throat, every muscle in his body tensed, every nerve on edge, waiting for the inevitable. Jordan hadn’t yet touched him, but he hadn’t stopped berating him, either – not since they’d gotten into the car to leave the event that evening._

 _Nothing Adam did was right. He’d had too much to drink – though he’d only had two glasses of wine. He was too flirtatious with the other men around them – though Adam never dared to flirt, hardly even dared to_ speak _to other men anymore, for fear of Jordan’s jealous reaction. He’d embarrassed Jordan with his stupid, crass comments – even if everyone else seemed to have found him charming and funny._

 _None of that mattered – not when Jordan was glaring at him, that dark purpose in his eyes, the certainty of retaliation to come._

 _“Yeah, like you give a damn. About your image – your career. If it wasn’t for me, keeping your hopeless fuck-ups to a minimum, you’d have fallen off the radar months ago, Adam.”_

 _Adam’s face flushed hot with shame, and he bit his lip, stifling the retort that rose to his lips. For all the anger and disgust in his voice, Jordan still seemed relatively calm. Maybe he could still avert the situation before it exploded in his face…_

 _“I’m really sorry, Jordan,” Adam repeated, sincerely. “I just… I haven’t been thinking clearly. Haven’t been getting enough rest. I… I’m really tired. I just… I just want to go to bed…”_

 _As he spoke, Adam headed toward the doorway that led from the kitchen to the stairs, hoping to escape into sleep before Jordan’s rant could reach its inevitable boiling point. Jordan smoothly intercepted his attempt, however, catching his arm in a firm grip and backing him up a few steps. Adam’s stomach lurched when he looked up into his boyfriend’s eyes, and saw the predatory smirk of mingled anger and amusement on his face. His voice was soft, with an edge of warning, as he replied, low and leading._

 _“You’ll leave when I_ say _you can leave, Adam.”_

 _Adam fought the instinct to pull away, knowing that would only make things worse. He lowered his gaze, his breath quickening with alarm as he hurried to get out a stumbling, stammered response through the panic that choked him as Jordan began to steadily back him up until he was cornered against the kitchen counter.._

 _“I-I know. I’m sorry. Jordan, please, I’m sorry…” Adam flinched as Jordan raised a hand to brush through his hair. “Please…” he whispered, breathless, terrified. “Jordan, please…”_

 _Jordan ignored Adam’s desperate apologies, a cold, speculative smile on his lips as he stroked Adam’s hair gently. “I’ve got a question for you, baby,” he said softly. “I was wondering… what you and Seacrest had to talk about tonight.”_

 _Adam’s eyes opened and he stared up at Jordan in surprise. He’d barely said more than a couple of sentences to Ryan Seacrest when he’d seen him at the event, and that was only because it would have looked strange if they_ hadn’t _at least said hello, after working together on Idol and all…_

 _But… Ryan_ had _asked Adam if he was okay… said he didn’t seem quite like himself…_

 _But Adam had given him a bright, confused smile, insisting that everything was fine. Ryan hadn’t suspected a thing, Adam was sure. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d actually_ cared _… he’d simply been making conversation in the few obligatory seconds for which they’d be expected to do so, before focusing his blinding white smile on the cameras that surrounded them._

 _“We were just saying hello,” Adam insisted, his voice trembling over the words. “It wasn’t anything, Jordan. I just… hadn’t talked to him since Idol, and so… we just said hi…” His words were too fast and breathless as he shook his head pleadingly, looking up to meet Jordan’s eyes. “Please… please, Jordan… that’s all it was…”_

 _“Right. Of course.”_

 _Jordan nodded thoughtfully, a speculative frown on his lips – before abruptly striking out with the back of his closed fist. An explosion of blinding white pain accompanied the harsh blow, and Adam raised one hand to his throbbing cheek, the other rising, trembling, between himself and Jordan._

 _“Please… please, don’t…”_

 _“I’m going to ask you again…” Jordan’s voice was frighteningly calm, a direct contrast to the painful grip of his hand in Adam’s hair, jerking his head back slightly and sending a searing pain through his scalp. “… and this time, you’re going to tell me the truth.”_

 _“Please,” Adam whispered, his pulse racing, a sick sensation of dread in the pit of his stomach. “Jordan, please… I_ am _telling you the truth,_ please _…”_

 _Jordan’s fingers tightened in Adam’s hair, and he bit back a whimper of protest as his head was slowly pulled back farther, exposing his throat and making him feel overwhelmingly helpless and vulnerable. He flinched, braced for a blow when Jordan’s free hand moved – but it moved past him to pick up something off the counter behind Adam._

 _A glint of steel flashed in the corner of his eye, and Adam’s stomach lurched in recognition of the blade in Jordan’s hand – one of a set of expensive knives they had purchased when they’d first moved in together and set up house here. Adam’s breath failed him, and he felt panic closing in when he felt the sharp, cool smoothness of the blade, pressed against his cheek._

 _“Please,” he gasped out desperately. “Jordan, n-no…_ no _…”_

 _“Maybe I should just ruin this pretty face of yours…” Jordan mused, his hushed voice unsettlingly calm and casual, as if he were suggesting an option for dinner that night, instead of the brutal and permanent mutilation of his boyfriend. “If I scar you up beyond recognition… make you so fucking ugly that no one can stand to_ look _at you, much less flirt with you and tempt you away from me… then maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about you making such a pathetic whore of yourself all the time. You think?”_

 _Adam’s shoulders shook with silent sobs, and he tried to shake his head, but immediately stopped when he felt the faint sting of the razor sharp blade against his skin. “No,” he whispered, pleading, his face streaked with tears. “No,_ please _, no…”_

 _Jordan smiled cruelly, leaning in close to Adam’s ear, his warm breath sending a shudder down Adam’s spine as he whispered, “What use is a whore that no one wants to use anymore, right? That’s_ one _way to make sure I’ve got you all to myself.”_

 _A choked sob escaped Adam’s lips, and he held up a cautious, gentle hand between them, pressing against Jordan’s chest, but not trying to push him away – just wordlessly pleading for understanding._

 _“Please don’t,” he sobbed softly. “Please, I don’t want anyone else. I just want to be with you. Please… please, you don’t have t-to… please,_ no _…”_

 _Jordan’s hand softened to a caress in Adam’s hair, but his tone turned icy, hard as steel, as he lowered the blade from Adam’s cheek to press against his throat, and spoke his vicious words directly into Adam’s ear._

 _“If I ever find out that you’re lying to me, Adam – if you ever say a fucking word to anyone about our personal affairs – I will_ kill _you. Don’t think I’m joking or exaggerating or making empty threats – because I’m not.”_

 _He drew back, meeting Adam’s wide, panicked eyes with a cold, unyielding stare._

 _“_ I will kill you _. Do you understand?”_

 _Adam nodded, breathless and frantic, shaking violently. “Y-yes… please, Jordan, I won’t… I won’t_ ever _…”_

 _“Good.” Jordan smiled, his tone abruptly softening as he laid the knife aside, on the counter again, backing off a little as his hand in Adam’s hair trailed down, his fingertips teasing and suggestive along the column of Adam’s throat as he met Adam’s eyes with a satisfied smirk. “_ Now _,” he declared softly, “we can go to bed.”_

 _************************************_

“Adam… Adam, listen to me. Can you hear me? _Adam_ …”

 

The insistent but gentle sound of a very familiar voice began to gradually break through around the edges of the nightmare that engulfed him, and Adam struggled to focus on that voice, to shut out the terrifying images that flooded his mind. He could still feel the sharp press of the blade against his throat, could still hear Jordan’s menacing whisper in his ear, nearly drowning out the gentle voice at his side.

 

“Adam… babe, look at me. Okay?”

 

Adam couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, still consumed with panic, confused and afraid. He felt a strange sense of resistance to that voice, somehow knew that he wasn’t supposed to be feeling the intense feeling of relief he felt at the sound of it – but he couldn’t quite remember why.

 

“J-Jordan,” he whispered in a trembling, tiny voice, shaking his head, his eyes still tightly closed – though he wasn’t sure whether it was reality or illusion that he was trying to shut out. “He… he’ll…”

 

“He’s not here,” Kris’s voice firmly stated. “Adam, open your eyes, babe, okay? Open your eyes and look. Jordan is _not here_. Come on, darlin’. Look at me. Come on and open your eyes for me…”

 

Kris’s coaxing words finally got through, and Adam cautiously opened his eyes, blinking against the light that seemed too bright, overwhelming. As the world slowly came into focus again, he felt disoriented and exposed, not quite able to remember where he was.

 

“Adam… look at me, babe… I’m right here…”

 

Adam looked toward the sound of that voice, close at his side, and saw Kris’s dark eyes, warm with concern and affection, focused intently on him. Adam looked down and saw that he was on his knees on a clean, white tile floor, and Kris was kneeling beside him. Kris’s hand trembled as it hovered an inch or two above his knee, not quite daring to touch, but visibly _desperate_ to soothe and reassure him.

 

“Adam… Adam, are you hearing me? Adam?”

 

As reality sank in, and Adam realized that he was safe, not with Jordan any longer, but here with Kris, who loved him and was looking at him with those anxious, searching eyes, ready to take him into his arms and hold him and protect him – suddenly, there was nothing he wanted more than to be in the safety of that embrace.

 

Adam couldn’t maintain the barriers he’d put up between them, not any longer – not now, when they seemed so insignificant, in comparison with what Kris was offering him.

 

 _I need him… God, I don’t want to, but I_ need _him so much…_

 

“ _Kris_ ,” he sobbed out, practically lunging forward, his face falling against the faded denim that covered Kris’s thighs. “Kris… oh, _Kris_ …” He couldn’t seem to get out anything more than Kris’s name – but it didn’t matter.

 

“Shhh,” Kris soothed him, his fingers gently stroking the hair at the back of Adam’s neck, his other arm going around Adam’s shoulders and holding him close. “It’s all right, Adam… you’re safe. I’ve got you… everything’s going to be all right…”


	58. Chapter 58

Kris immediately spotted Derek, standing on the sidewalk near the building’s entrance. He parked the car hurriedly – and illegally – opening the door and beginning to get out before he’d even taken the keys from the ignition. Derek saw him almost as quickly, and met him halfway to the door.

 

“Where is he?” Kris demanded without preamble. He knew he probably sounded terse and impatient, but at the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Is he all right?”

 

“He’s upstairs,” Derek replied, apparently unbothered by Kris’s rudeness, pausing to open the door and let Kris go ahead of him into the building. “We got him inside right away. I don’t think anyone recognized him. We got him into the elevator and took him back up to the reception area where we waited for him during his appointment. It seemed more… private, than the first floor lobby.”

 

Kris nodded, accepting the wisdom of that decision as he impatiently pressed the up button on the elevator, far more times than was actually necessary. “Who’s with him right now?”

 

“David, and… well, the receptionist… and… Dr. Moore?”

 

Derek’s voice was slow and hesitant, and Kris’s heart sank as he realized that the security guard was speaking cautiously because he wasn’t sure how much he was supposed to know. Adam hadn’t wanted even his security detail to know that his appointment was with a psychologist. Of course, now, Kris was fairly certain that it was too late to worry about that. Adam was just lucky that no one who wasn’t sworn to secrecy for professional reasons had witnessed his breakdown.

 

As the elevator doors opened onto the seventh floor, Kris stepped out, scanning the room anxiously. Thankfully, the room was relatively empty, besides the receptionist behind the counter, who kept glancing anxiously toward the corner of the room, and David, the other security guard, and a woman in a stylish grey suit that Kris could only assume was Dr. Moore, crouched down and speaking in low, soothing tones to the trembling, sobbing figure huddled in the corner…

 

 _Adam… oh, God,_ Adam…

 

Adam’s back was pressed hard against the wall, as if he were somehow trying to disappear into it. His knees were drawn up tight in front of him, his arms wrapped around them and his face buried in his arms. His shoulders were quaking uncontrollably, and the pitiful, keening sobs that broke the stillness of the room tore at Kris’s heart, making his chest ache and his eyes burn with tears.

 

“Adam… Adam, can you hear me?”

 

Dr. Moore was crouched down in front of Adam, one hand cautiously extended toward him but not touching him, her voice soft and patient – but Adam didn’t seem to be hearing her at all. She looked up with mild alarm at the sound of Kris’s swiftly approaching footsteps, before standing up and moving to intercept Kris before he could reach Adam.

 

“Can I help you?”

 

Kris tried to suppress the instinctive irritation he felt at her guarded greeting. To him, in that moment, she wasn’t the clearly concerned professional trying to protect Adam’s privacy; she was nothing more than the obstacle standing in the way of his getting to his boyfriend who _needed_ him.

 

“I’m Kris Allen, I’m his boyfriend, they called me to come…” he explained impatiently, trying to edge past her. “Let me by, I need to talk to him…”

 

Recognition dawned in her eyes, but Dr. Moore still seemed wary as she took a cautious step backward. “Maybe you can get through to him… but be careful…”

 

Kris barely even heard her as he closed the remaining distance between himself and Adam, pausing a moment once he’d reached him, before slowly kneeling at his side.

 

“Adam? Adam, babe, darlin’, look at me…”

 

Adam didn’t seem to hear him, crying quietly into his folded arms, his entire body shaking violently. Kris reached out a hand toward him, his instincts crying out to touch, to soothe – but he knew well enough by now that in this moment, touch would probably not be a comfort to Adam. He had to make him understand where he was and who it was that would be touching him first.

 

“Adam,” he repeated, his voice soft and trembling with the pain of seeing Adam so distraught, and being so helpless to do anything about it. “Adam, babe… it’s me. It’s Kris. Please, look at me, Adam… _please_ …”

 

 _He’s not even hearing me… God, this can’t happen… not right now, not with the trial so close…_

 

Kris closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head a little to clear it. He bit his lip, letting out a shaky, anxious breath, struggling to keep his own fears at bay and focus on what Adam needed.

 

Of course, at the moment, that was the problem – he had no idea exactly what that might be.

 

Every time before when Adam had found himself trapped in the middle of some nightmare from his past, Kris had managed to pull him out of it simply by reassuring him that he was no longer in that place, no longer under Jordan’s control, but here and now and _safe…_ with _Kris._

 _Except that now… now, he doesn’t want anything to do with me. Doesn’t want to talk to me, doesn’t want me to help him… doesn’t even want me to_ touch _him. What was I thinking, even coming down here?_

 _What if all I do is make things ten times_ worse _?_

Despite his fears, Kris kept up his quiet, firm litany of soothing words, trying his best to get through to Adam as he’d always done before. Just when he had all but given up, despairing that his efforts were useless – Adam wasn’t coming out of it for him, not this time, because this time, Adam wanted nothing to do with him – Adam slowly raised his head, and then suddenly, abruptly seemed to recognize him at last, eyes wide and blinking with confusion, lashes damp and glittering with tears as Adam’s trembling lips whispered with mingled hope and fear.

 

“K-Kris?”

 

“Yes, Adam,” Kris whispered, hushed and cautious, afraid that he might ruin everything with a single ill-placed word. “It’s me. I’m here, Adam… I’m right here…”

 

And the next moment, Adam was in his arms, his face buried against Kris’s lap, his shaking hands clutching at Kris’s sides and holding him tight. Kris’s heart ached for Adam, and the broken sobs that fell from Adam’s lips tore at his heart; but even so, Kris felt a faint sense of relief underlying it all – relief that, for whatever reason he’d chosen to shut him out in the first place, Adam was finally allowing him close again.

 

“Kris,” Adam sobbed over and over again, apparently unable to say anything else. “Kris… oh, _Kris_ …”

 

Kris just held him while he cried it out, stroking his hair, rubbing his back, reassuring him with a continuous stream of soft promises, until Adam finally grew quiet, raising his tear-streaked face to meet Kris’s eyes for a moment. He looked so uncertain, so vulnerable – and Kris reached out to gently pull him close again, guiding Adam’s head down onto his shoulder.

 

“It’s all right, Adam,” he whispered. “I’m here. I’ll always be here when you need me, no matter what. I promise.”

 

Adam had gone still and silent against him, and finally, slowly, raised his head, though his eyes were focused on Kris’s lap, rather than his face. “I know,” he whispered hoarsely, and there was a strange note of desolation and defeat in his voice that made Kris feel a sick, uneasy sensation in his stomach. “That’s the problem. I wish… I wish I… I don’t want to…”

 

Kris frowned, shaking his head slightly in confusion at Adam’s rambling, disjointed words. He reached out to clasp Adam’s hand in his, tilting his head downward, trying to catch Adam’s eyes.

 

“Adam… what?” he murmured gently. “What are you trying to say?”

 

Adam just shook his head, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep, shaky breath, before leaning forward to lower his head onto Kris’s shoulder again, wrapping his arms around him and holding on with a quiet, aching desperation that made Kris feel a deep sense of relief, mingled with guilt at feeling that relief.

 

 _I wish I knew what’s going on in his head right now… what’s troubling him so much… well, beyond the obvious. But… but he_ needs _me, and he’s_ letting _himself need me, and for now… it’s going to have to be enough…_

“Come on, Adam,” Kris said softly after a few minutes, drawing back gently and running a tender hand through Adam’s damp, disheveled hair. “Let’s go home.”

 

********************************

 

Adam had two more appointments scheduled with Dr. Moore for that week, before the trial.

 

When he left for the next one, he willingly allowed Kris to come along.

 

He still seemed to be acting a little strangely, Kris thought – a little distant and preoccupied – but at least he was allowing Kris to touch him again, and talking to him about his fears about the trial, and sleeping in the same bed with him again at night. He seemed to be willing to allow Kris to help shoulder some of the burden again – and for that, Kris was deeply relieved and grateful.

 

 _But… something still seems…_ off, _with him. Like… he’s still holding something back…_

 

Kris tried not to worry about it, tried not to push, telling himself that when Adam was ready, he would talk to him about it. Or maybe, he didn’t need to talk to Kris about it. That’s what his therapy sessions were for, right? Maybe it was something he was dealing with there, and nothing Kris needed to worry about.

 

Not worrying, however, proved to be impossible.

 

The best Kris could do was to try to put it out of his mind, while he waited for Adam to finish his visit with Dr. Moore. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly exhausted. He glanced up at the clock on the wall of the reception area, noting that he still had about half an hour before the appointment would be over.

 

 _I need a shot of caffeine or something… I’m dead on my feet here…_

 

Kris’s mind went wistfully to the little coffee shop he’d noticed on their way in, across the street from Dr. Moore’s building. He glanced to either side of his chair, at the two security guards that had accompanied him and Adam to this appointment; he knew that Adam would be safe for a little while, if he just ducked out and across the street for a cup of coffee.

 

 _And if I’m quick, I’ll be back before Adam gets out of his appointment… he’ll never even know I was gone…_

 

It took Kris a couple of minutes to convince the security guards that they both should stay here to look after Adam, rather than one of them coming with him. After all, Kris was fairly certain that if Jordan _did_ decide to try something again, Adam would be his target, rather than Kris. In the end, though, the decision was his to make.

 

 _Sometimes it’s good to be the boss…_

 

As Kris made his way across the street, his mind was preoccupied with preparations for the trial. He went over everything they’d discussed with the prosecutor in the past few days, every witness and every piece of evidence they had – and desperately hoped that it would be enough.

 

 _Adam’s testimony… and his medical records, the pictures the doctor took… that’s pretty compelling evidence right there… and Brad’s and Leila’s testimony about how Adam changed once he got with Jordan… Jordan’s attacking me at the arena that night…_

 

 _I just wish we knew what_ he _was going to use… he seems really confident that he can win this…_

Kris took his cup of coffee from the friendly barista, offering her a distracted smile before turning and heading for the door. Glancing at his watch, he determined that he had about fifteen minutes before Adam’s appointment would be finished.

 

“Kris Allen?”

 

Kris stopped short, warily taking in the slim, short young woman who had just stepped out in front of him, blocking his path. She didn’t look particularly threatening, but she _did_ look vaguely familiar – and Kris couldn’t help but think of Jordan’s hired diversion in the boutique, the girl who’d kept him distracted so that Jordan could attack Adam. He glanced around the coffee shop, looking for anyone who might be with this girl, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

 

Still, Kris knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

 

The past few days had been a brutal lesson in the dangers of being too trusting.

 

“Let me guess,” he replied, his voice flat and guarded, a single eyebrow raised as he watched her closely to gauge her reaction. “You work for Jordan Brenner, don’t you?”

 

The nervous way the young woman glanced around the coffee shop, as if worried that someone might have overheard him, was no surprise to Kris. What he wasn’t expecting was the blunt, honest words that accompanied the young woman’s gaze, and the way that gaze remained unwavering once it had locked onto his again.

 

“Yes. Yes, I do. I’ve been his driver for the last year. And… and I have something I think you should see.”


	59. Chapter 59

“So, Adam… would you like to talk about what happened as you were leaving our last session?”

 

Dr. Moore’s voice was so calm and measured, casual as if she were discussing the weather, and Adam found it strangely infuriating. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair and averting his eyes.

 

“You were there,” he retorted. “I guess you already know exactly what it looked like.”

 

“I know what it looked like,” Dr. Moore conceded with a slow nod, and although he was looking away, Adam could feel her piercing gaze focused on him, studying him. “But that’s not the same thing as what _happened_ , Adam – and _that’s_ what I’m asking you.”

 

Adam closed his eyes for a moment, but immediately regretted it as his mind flooded with the remembered images that had tormented him that afternoon – Jordan’s raging, furious voice spewing out insults and threats, Jordan’s fist across his face, Jordan’s hand wrapped around his throat…

 

He shuddered, opening his eyes and forcing himself to take a deep breath and speak calmly as he replied.

 

“No… I really don’t think you want that.”

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

“Well, then _I_ don’t want it, okay?” Adam snapped, defensive. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

 

Dr. Moore was silent for a moment, watching him, before she nodded in guarded acceptance. “All right then. Let’s start with something… related, but easier.” She paused a moment, her piercing gaze studying him closely as she suggested, “Why don’t you tell me about what’s going on between you and Kris?”

 

Adam frowned, trying to look puzzled by the question, but he began to feel an uneasy quiver in the pit of his stomach with the reminder of all that was still unsettled between him and his boyfriend, and he found himself wondering if talking about this would be any better than talking about Jordan.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, blinking dumbly and shaking his head. “He’s… my boyfriend…”

 

Dr. Moore smiled knowingly, clearly not fooled by his act. “And… the two of you are having some issues lately, aren’t you?”

 

“Well, if we are…” Adam shrugged, looking away. “… I don’t see how that’s really relevant to the situation, with the trial coming up and all…”

 

“Except that he’s been a major part of your support system these past few weeks, hasn’t he?” Dr. Moore pointed out mildly. “So… if the two of you _are_ having issues…”

 

“We’re fine,” Adam retorted, well aware that he was being obviously defensive and difficult, but not really able to bring himself to care at the moment. “What makes you think we’re having issues?”

 

“In the lobby after your last session,” Dr. Moore began, and Adam braced himself, his nerves automatically on edge just at the mention of the humiliating incident. “When Kris got there, he wanted to reach out to you. He started to – and then he pulled back. He was hesitant and unsure…”

 

“Well, who wouldn’t be in that situation?” Adam reasoned, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like it’s a normal thing to be figuring out how to deal with…”

 

“Except that it kind of _is_ , isn’t it? For Kris. These days.”

 

Adam looked away, trapped without an answer as he finally realized how she’d put the pieces together.

 

“You’d think that by this point he’d have figured out how to handle your panic attacks, and not still be in a situation where he isn’t sure what to do. Unless… something’s changed recently between you.”

 

Adam remained silent, but the words cut through his defenses, forcing him to think about what he’d been trying to avoid thinking about for the past few days – the lingering fear that had been building that he and Kris were headed toward inevitable disaster. Hot tears stung the backs of his eyes, and Adam brought one hand up to shield them, shaking his head.

 

“You said something, right after you came out of the panic attack,” Dr. Moore persisted, her voice gentle but unyielding, firmly pressing forward despite Adam’s emotional reaction. “You told Kris that you needed him… and then you said… ‘I don’t want to’… and you never finished that statement.” She paused, only going on, softly, when Adam did not venture a response. “Would you like to finish it _now_ , Adam?”

 

Adam’s shoulders trembled as he struggled to fight back his tears – and then abruptly gave in, lowering his hand from his eyes and shaking his head in defeat.

 

 _If you’re not going to talk about any of this stuff, then why are you even here?_

 

“I… I think I need him too much. You know?” he confessed at last, looking up to meet her eyes, blinking back tears that obscured his vision.

 

She nodded slowly, silently, waiting for him to go on.

 

“I just think… I’ve been depending on him for so much, and he’s been taking charge more and more, but… I’ve kind of _wanted_ him to, you know? Except… maybe I just want that because it’s what I’m used to, with Jordan, and if that’s what _he_ wants, then maybe… maybe he’s more like Jordan than I’d like to think… or maybe I’ve just been pushing him to take over. I don’t know. I don’t know _anything_. I’m just… I’m so fuckin’ _confused_ …”

 

Dr. Moore’s expression was pensive as she took in Adam’s words, nodding slowly. “Without any psychological support to help you do otherwise, it’s natural for you to fall back into the patterns you’re used to.”

 

Adam nodded with a worried little grimace. “That’s what I’m afraid of. And… I _want_ to trust Kris. I _do_ trust him. I mean… I _think_ I do…”

 

“You do,” Dr. Moore agreed. “At least to a point. He’s the only one that was able to make you feel safe when you had your panic attack. He was the only one that was able to get through to you – and that alone says something, don’t you think?”

 

Adam nodded again, thoughtful. “Yeah,” he replied slowly. “I guess it does. It’s just… sometimes… I know he doesn’t mean to, but… he just sort of takes over… just kind of _assumes_ that he’ll be the one to take charge in a situation, and… it reminds me of Jordan. And… I don’t think he means it that way. I don’t know, maybe it’s even my fault. Maybe I’m doing something to make him think that’s what I want. I don’t know.”

 

“It’s possible that he’s just trying to be supportive, and give you what you need to go through a difficult time… and he’s becoming more controlling because… he thinks you _need_ him to take control?”

 

“Right,” Adam confirmed with a nod, a troubled sensation building in the pit of his stomach. “Exactly.” He was quiet for a moment, looking up to meet her eyes before informing her softly, “That’s how it started with Jordan, you know.” He paused, looking down at his lap and blinking back tears. “Maybe… maybe that’s how it _always_ starts.”

 

“Right now, it’s difficult for you to really trust _anyone,_ Adam. That’s one thing you need to take into consideration. Has Kris done anything to make you believe that you can’t trust him? Anything specific that you can think of?”

 

“No,” Adam admitted softly, shaking his head. “No, he’s been… nothing but good to me, really. Any mistakes he’s made…” He hesitated, letting out a soft, shaky sigh before concluding in defeat, “… he’s made while trying to protect me. But… _I’m_ the one who made him feel like he _has_ to protect me. _I’m_ the one who keeps… keeps being too freaked out and insecure to make a decision, and leaving it all up to him… and then getting pissed off and suspicious of him because he keeps taking charge. It’s not fair to him, I know. And… I’m starting to think that maybe this just… isn’t going to work, you know?” Adam didn’t bother trying to hold back the tears that rose to his eyes at that painful admission. “I mean… maybe I just… shouldn’t be with _anyone_ right now.”

 

“That’s one possibility,” Dr. Moore agreed cautiously with a slow nod. “I think it’s wise that you’re considering these things now… that you’re analyzing the situation and trying to think past your emotions to what’s best for your emotional and mental health and stability… but, at the same time… I don’t want you to make any rash decisions that you may regret later.”

 

“I haven’t… I haven’t decided _anything_ yet.” Adam’s voice was barely over a whisper as he stared down at his trembling, folded hands in his lap.

 

“I think it might be a good idea to get Kris in here for a session,” Dr. Moore suggested. “Do you think that might help? For the two of you to discuss the issues you’re having, together, with a little bit of direction?”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Adam hadn’t considered the possibility before, but at this point, he was pretty sure the situation couldn’t get any worse. “After the trial. Right now… um… right now…” His face flushed with shame, and he looked away guiltily as he admitted, “Right now, I don’t think Kris realizes that anything is wrong.”

 

“But… he seemed to recognize some kind of tension between the two of you when he was here at your last visit,” Dr. Moore pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but… that was because I’d been trying to go it alone for a little while, and… and since then… I’ve been trying to act as if everything’s normal again. At least until after the trial. I just… I know I shouldn’t be leaning on him so much, but… I can’t even _think_ about going through this trial without him, so… I’m waiting to… to make any… _changes_ , or… or big decisions… until after it’s over. And… Kris just seems to be accepting that everything is back to normal again.”

 

He was quiet for a moment, considering, before looking up at her with a hesitant question. “Do you think… do think that’s wrong? Do you think I’m just… just using him?”

 

“I think… that maybe you’re not giving him enough credit,” Dr. Moore replied, her words measured and cautious. At his puzzled look, she clarified quietly, “I think… it’s highly unlikely that Kris is as blind as you think he is to the fact that everything is not exactly all right between the two of you.”

 

Adam blinked, a little startled by that thought.

 

“We can schedule an appointment for the two of you for after the trial, if you like,” Dr. Moore went on. “But for now… I think we have some more pressing issues to discuss before the trial on Monday.”

 

Adam automatically tensed, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting uncomfortably in his seat, knowing beyond all doubt that the things she wanted him to talk about were not things he wanted to discuss. He shook his head slowly, biting his lower lip for a moment before suggesting softly, “Why don’t we just… wait on that until the next time…?”

 

“Adam.” Dr. Moore’s voice took on a slightly stern tone as she set her ever-present notepad down on the desk and leaned across it to face him more directly “You need to talk to me…”

 

Adam let out a short, frustrated huff, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He couldn’t quite keep the tremor of nervous agitation from his voice as he retorted, “I don’t see how reliving all the shit I’ve been through over the past year is going to help me…”

 

“Well, then why are you going to trial?” Dr. Moore countered, a single eyebrow raised sharply in his direction. “Because that’s exactly what you’re going to be doing on that witness stand – reliving all the shit you’ve been through – and that is exactly what’s going to free you from it.”

 

Adam fell silent, considering her words, and finding that he had no ready retort. Her point made, Dr. Moore sat back again in her chair, her tone softened as she went on.

 

“Adam… if you can’t tell _me_ about it… how are you going to tell a judge and jury and a crowded courtroom full of onlookers, with Jordan sitting right there in front of you?”

 

Adam closed his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands against them, shaking his head against the image those words brought to mind. His stomach lurched, and he felt himself breaking out in a cold sweat, as Jordan’s menacing smile filled his thoughts.

 

“I can’t,” he whispered, shaking his head, fighting back frustrated, despairing tears. “I’m sorry… I just can’t…”

 

“Yes, you can,” she assured him in a tone that was gentle but firm, with a note of subtle urgency to her words. “Adam… his only power over you lies in your fear of speaking out. Every time you’ve told your story so far – to your mother, to Kris, to the police, to your doctor – you’ve taken another step toward breaking the hold Jordan has over your life… your thoughts. And this trial is going to be the final step. If you can tell that courtroom what he did to you, in front of him – then he’ll never be able to hurt you again.”

 

Adam nodded, tears streaking his face, swallowing hard. “I know,” he whispered in frustration. “I know…”

 

“But before you can tell them… you have to tell _me_.”

 

Adam knew that she was right. He _knew_ it. But all he wanted was to just try to forget about all that Jordan had done to him, and move on past it, on with his life.

 

 _But… this isn’t something you can just go past_ , he reminded himself, steeling himself for what he knew he had to do. _This is something… you have to go_ through.

 

 _But… you don’t have to do it alone._

 

Adam looked up at Dr. Moore, who was watching him with an expression of patient, compassionate understanding. At last, he nodded his agreement, drawing in a shaky breath and squaring his shoulders, as he tried to steady himself enough to go on.

 

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

 

“Good, Adam.” She gave him a warm, approving smile, nodding in encouragement. “Very good. Now… whenever you’re ready… why don’t you tell me about when you and Jordan first met?”

 

Adam looked up, swallowing hard, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts. Finally, a bittersweet little smile crossed his lips, and he began.

 

“ _Some_ things… haven’t changed since then. For example, when I first met Jordan… I was madly in love with Kris Allen…”


	60. Chapter 60

“I have something I think you’ll want to see.”

 

The young woman glanced furtively around the crowded coffee shop before taking a step closer to Kris, her voice lowered secretively.

 

“This is _really important_ to your case,” she insisted in a hushed, urgent tone.

 

Kris stared at her, a single brow raised dubiously. His tone was quietly incredulous. “Just how stupid do you think I am? I’m not going _anywhere_ with you…”

 

“I didn’t ask you to,” she snapped back, impatient – but the nervous, paranoid way she kept scanning their surroundings told Kris that her annoyance was really due to fear. “Here… I just want to give you this…”

 

She reached under her jacket, not looking at Kris, but rather around at the few other patrons of the coffee shop. Kris immediately tensed, bracing himself for the worst – but it was nothing more than a large white envelope, unlabeled and unmarked.

 

“Don’t open it here,” she advised, placing it in his hands. “Wait until you get it home, and then don’t let it out of your sight.”

 

Kris frowned, still more than a little skeptical, glancing down at the innocent-appearing envelope in his hands before meeting her eyes again. “Don’t you think you’re being a little overdramatic?”

 

She shook her head slowly, and Kris felt a little chill go through him at the genuine fear in her eyes. “No,” she replied softly. “And you wouldn’t, either – not if you really knew what he was capable of.”

 

Kris’s thoughts turned to Adam, and the nearly nightly dreams that still tormented him – the countless horrifying memories he’d poured out to Kris in his unguarded moments – and swallowed hard.

 

 _I_ do _know…_

 

But before he could voice his thoughts, the young woman had already turned to go. Kris’s mind raced, trying to catch up with what was happening, and decide what he should do with what he’d been given.

 

 _It looks like she actually_ does _want to help… and she works for Jordan, so… maybe…_

“Wait!” he called out, hurrying after her and catching her arm just before she reached the exit. “Wait a second!”

 

She spun around to face him, jerking her arm free and staring up at him through wild, fearful eyes. “I can’t,” she tersely replied. “I have to go.”

 

“Wait, no! _Please_!” Kris persisted, and she reluctantly paused in the doorway. “You work for him. You _just said_ you know what he’s capable of. And… you wouldn’t be giving me this… whatever it is… that can help our case, if you didn’t know that he was guilty.”

 

She didn’t confirm his inferences, but she didn’t deny them, either. She just stood there, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, her eyes constantly moving, making contact with everything in the room except for Kris’s face.

 

“You could testify,” Kris suggested, unable to keep the eager sound from his voice. “Whatever it is that you’ve seen… however you got this… evidence… you can tell the court about it, and help to put him away…”

 

“No,” she cut him off sharply, her voice trembling slightly as she took another backward step toward the door, shaking her head emphatically. “No, I… I can’t do that…”

 

“Wait, please…”

 

“ _No_!” she snapped. “I’ve done all I can. Now, I have to go.” Kris reached out toward her again, but she jerked away before he could touch her, a warning tone to her voice as she concluded, “ _Don’t_.”

 

Kris resisted the temptation to follow her as she made her escape, reminding himself that she was clearly already skittish, and he wouldn’t get anywhere by scaring her more than she already was. He looked down at the envelope in his hands, his heart pounding, his mind racing with a dozen different excited theories – but he remembered her advice, and resisted the impulse to open the envelope there. He tucked it under his own jacket, tossing his nearly empty cup in the trash on the way out before heading back across the street.

 

Adam’s appointment would be over in less than five minutes, and Kris wanted to be sure that he was there when Adam came out.

 

Kris found himself dealing with his own case of paranoia as he made his way back to the psychologist’s office, watching carefully for any sign of Jordan, or anyone that might be inclined to do Jordan’s dirty work for him. He let out a sigh of relief when the elevator doors slid open outside Dr. Moore’s office, and their security detail came into his line of vision.

 

Kris considered for a moment, and ultimately decided against mentioning the encounter or the envelope to the guards. He figured that the fewer people knew about this, the safer they’d be – at least until he knew exactly what type of information they had on their hands.

 

A few minutes after Kris took his seat in the waiting room, Adam came out of Dr. Moore’s office. He was quiet and seemed preoccupied and pensive, but he offered Kris a soft smile when he saw him, and accepted the hug Kris offered before heading toward the car.

 

Kris waited until they were home, with the doors securely locked behind them, to take the envelope out from under his jacket. He hesitated a moment, considering, before opening his mouth to call Adam’s attention to it – but Adam was already halfway up the stairs, headed toward the privacy of the guest room.

 

He had resumed sleeping in the same bed with Kris since he’d started therapy, and although they barely even seemed to touch these days, Kris thought that was a good sign. And that slight progress made him even more acutely aware of how much damage might be done by attempting to push past Adam’s boundaries when he made it clear that solitude was what he needed.

 

So, Kris took the mysterious envelope into the kitchen where he sat down at the kitchen table, took a deep breath, and opened it up.

 

***************************************

 

Adam was feeling more than a little overwhelmed in the wake of his session with Dr. Moore. He had poured out so many painful memories, so many confusing thoughts and feelings that he’d been holding back for months – and now, he couldn’t seem to keep the vivid images from flooding his thoughts. Every nerve felt raw and vulnerable, his emotions brimming over at the surface, as if he might break down at a single wrong word or touch from _anyone_.

 

All Adam wanted to do was to just stop thinking and feeling for a little while – to just close his eyes and fall asleep and shut everything out.

 

Unfortunately, he was just starting to drift off when there was a soft knock on the guest room door. He considered simply ignoring it and pretending to be asleep, but a moment later the knock was repeated, and Kris’s hesitant, muffled voice drifted past the door.

 

“Adam? I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s important. Please open the door?”

 

Adam sighed, covering his face with his hands for a moment before rising to his feet and trudging unwillingly toward the door. When he opened it, he was at least a little gratified by the guilty, apologetic look on Kris’s face.

 

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I need you to come down to the kitchen. I’ve got something you really need to see.”

 

Kris didn’t wait for a response before turning and making his way back down the stairs. Adam hesitated for a moment before letting out a weary sigh of resignation and following Kris to the kitchen. He stopped in the kitchen doorway, surprised at the sight of various papers strewn across the table, covering every inch of space.

 

“What _is_ all of this?” he asked as he slowly approached and sat down across from Kris, who had already sat down and was leafing through the haphazard mess of paperwork. “Kris?”

 

Kris looked up at him, a little guiltily. “Today, during your appointment, I went across the street for a cup of coffee…”

 

Adam frowned, failing to see how that explained what he was seeing. As Kris went on, Adam reached out across the table to pick up one of the papers and examine it.

 

“At the coffee shop, this woman came up to me, and… she told me that she worked for Jordan. That she was his driver. She gave me all of this in a white envelope and told me not to open it until I got home. She said she thought it might help our case…”

 

But Adam was no longer listening to what Kris was saying. In fact, he could barely hear anything over the roaring in his ears as he stared down at the familiar piece of paper in his hands. His heart lurched, and his brow broke out in a cold sweat, his hands suddenly shaking, blurring the handwritten but generic block characters that made up the text of the letter – one of dozens he’d received over the last year, all from his stalker.

 

 _“I’m only doing this to protect you. Don’t you know what could happen to you if you don’t listen to me? You’re scared of_ me? _Don’t you realize what this guy wants to_ do _to you?”_

 

“Adam?”

 

Adam closed his eyes against the frightening images that filled his mind, drawing in a shaky, shuddering breath and dropping the letter to the table to cover his face with his hands.

 

 _“You just make me so angry! I’m trying everything in my power to keep you safe from this guy, and you undermine me at every turn! Even now you’re ignoring me!_ Look at me _when I’m talking to you, you stupid little whore! Look at me!”_

 

“Adam… Adam, look at me.”

 

Kris’s voice sounded urgent and frightened, though it seemed to be coming from very far away, as if Adam was underwater, drowning, and Kris was frantically calling to him from the surface. Kris didn’t seem as real, as vivid, as present as the dark specter of his past, Jordan’s furious voice screaming in his head.

 

#  _Jordan… Jordan’s the one who wrote these letters…_

 

#  _He said he wanted to protect me, but all he wanted was to keep me under control…_

 

Adam shuddered as he remembered the worst of the very descriptive threats in the letters, the horrifically explicit promises of degrading, violent sexual abuses that the writer said he would perform whenever he managed to get Adam alone.

 

 _I was terrified every time I’d get one of them – terrified of the kind of person that could come up with those kinds of ideas, that could want to do those things to me – and the whole time, that person was sleeping with me in my bed… touching me, every day…_ _making love to me…_

 

Adam felt like he was going to be sick. The host of unwelcome memories brought back by the sight of the letter in his hands overwhelmed him, and for a moment he couldn’t think, couldn’t respond, couldn’t so much as breathe.

 

********************************************************

 

“Adam. _Adam_!”

 

Kris reached across the table to touch Adam’s wrist, which was visibly trembling, his fingers white-knuckled around the fluttering piece of paper in his hands. Adam jumped a little, drawing in a sharp little breath and pulling away from Kris’s touch.

 

Crap. That was stupid. Should have warned him, shouldn’t have let him see these like that… stupid, stupid…

 

“Adam. Adam, please look at me. You’re scaring me,” Kris pleaded, not daring to touch his boyfriend again, his fingertips hovering uncertainly inches from Adam’s hand. “ _Adam_ …”

 

Adam slowly lifted his gaze from the paper in front of him, shifting it to take in the other letters spread out across the table, his wide, shell-shocked eyes at last locking onto Kris’s face. For a moment, Kris was relieved when he saw that confusion and fear beginning to fade – but then it was replaced by a look of suspicion, and a vague sense of… _betrayal_ … and Kris’s stomach churned with an uneasy, fluttering sensation of guilt.

 

“How did you… where did you get these?” Adam asked at last, a wary frown creasing his brow.

 

“I went for coffee during your appointment,” Kris repeated gently. “And your… _Jordan’s_ … driver was there, and gave me an envelope that had all of this in it…”

 

“Why didn’t you… why didn’t you tell me…?” Adam whispered, shaking his head.

 

“I _am_ telling you,” Kris pointed out softly, holding Adam’s gaze. “That’s why I woke you up…”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me _before_?” Adam persisted, his voice gaining a little strength as the shock of the moment seemed to begin to pass.

 

“I didn’t know what she’d given me,” Kris explained. “I wasn’t sure if it was going to be anything valuable, or just something to send us off on a wild goose chase, or maybe even some sick attempt of Jordan’s to get to you and scare you before the trial… I just thought… I thought it’d be better to see what it was before… before I worried you.”

 

Adam just sat there for a moment, still and silent, staring down at the letter in front of him. Finally, he nodded slowly, though he seemed to be once more distracted by the familiar reminder of his past trauma.

 

 _And there’s so much more than those stupid freaking letters here…_ Kris ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched with frustration. _I shouldn’t have let him see them like this. I should have done this better. All he can see is these letters, and all the crap that Jordan put him through…_

 

“I just… I have the _right_ to be… to be worried. It’s… not up to… not your…”

 

Kris frowned, troubled by the distant, halting sound of Adam’s shaky, rambling words, and alarmed by the way he seemed to be losing track of his thought, his attention too arrested by what he was looking at to focus on what he was saying.

 

“ _Adam_.”

 

Kris cut him off gently, reaching across the table to place a warm, firm hand on Adam’s wrist, gratified when this time, Adam didn’t pull away, but just looked up at him sharply through haunted eyes filled with mingled anger and uncertainty.

 

“Look… if you wanna be pissed with me, I get it. Okay? I know I probably didn’t handle this right, but… I’m not trying to be a jerk about it, it’s just… the trial is in _two days_ , all right? And… I really think some of this stuff can help, and… and we have to think about _that_ right now. Okay?” He hesitated before repeating softly, “Be pissed at me later. Okay?”

 

Adam stared across the table at Kris, his gaze inscrutable. He swallowed hard, his jaw working with his indecision, before finally nodding slowly.

 

“Fine,” he replied, his voice quiet and terse, but not exactly angry. “Tell me what we’ve got.”

 

“So… obviously there’s the stalker letters… which we sort of already knew that Jordan actually wrote,” Kris began, leafing through the papers on the table and gathering several of them into one stack. “And… there are _dozens_ of them here, so… maybe all of them. I guess he kept them.”

 

“That’s… _suspicious_ ,” Adam conceded with a thoughtful frown. “But doesn’t really _prove_ anything…”

 

“No,” Kris agreed, shaking his head. “It’s weird that he would tell you he’d turned them in to the cops, but never actually do it. It’s weird that he would keep them, but it doesn’t prove anything. _This_ , on the other hand…”

 

Kris reached out across the table to place another of the papers into Adam’s hand, waiting quietly for him to recognize the implications of it.

 

“This is… Jordan’s handwriting,” Adam observed softly, his eyes widening as he read the upsetting words his ex-boyfriend had written. “And this is… I never got this letter.”

 

“It’s not finished,” Kris pointed out. “I’m thinking it’s a draft. Maybe it would have been the last one? Maybe he was… in the middle of writing it, whenever…”

 

“Whenever I left him,” Adam concluded, nodding slowly. “Okay, so… if we can prove that this is his handwriting, then… that ties Jordan to the stalker letters.”

 

“Right. And… there’s more, Adam.”

 

He handed Adam another sheet of paper with the same handwriting, waiting quietly for his assessment of it. After a moment, Adam’s eyes went wide.

 

“Why would he _keep_ something like this? It’s so incriminating!”

 

“He probably figured no one would ever see it but him – and he had to have some way to keep all the lies straight in his head.” Kris couldn’t keep a note of grim disgust from his voice.

 

Adam shook his head slowly. “My… my entire staff… I always knew these things didn’t happen the way he said they did.”

 

“Apparently, he found ways of getting rid of every single member of your original staff, in order to keep you isolated from anyone that might have been more loyal to you than to him. We’re just lucky he was dumb enough to leave a paper trail as to how he did it each time,” Kris observed. “And there’s more. Check _this_ out.”

 

Adam’s eyes widened as he scanned another handwritten sheet, this one listing each of their current household employees, with various personal notes under each – the names and addresses and other personal information of their family members, private information that Kris was certain he hadn’t managed to come by through any ordinary, ethical means.

 

“What does this mean?” Adam wondered. “What, do you think he was… threatening them into silence? Like… blackmailing them?”

 

“It’s possible.” Kris nodded slowly. “I mean, we couldn’t know for sure, unless… I wish your driver would have talked to me a little more, but… I’m thinking maybe he was holding onto all this personal information on each of them in order to use it to control them. Maybe… maybe he threatened to have someone hurt their families, or… I don’t know. We need to talk to his driver again.”

 

“I don’t know if she’ll talk to us,” Adam said softly, looking away for a moment. “I mean… I’m shocked that she gave us this much.” He shook his head slowly, a troubled frown creasing his brow, some distant past pain in his eyes. “Before, she never… I mean…” He finally looked up to meet Kris’s eyes again, waving a dismissive hand when he noticed how closely Kris was watching him. “Never mind. She gave us this information _now_. That’s what matters. And if she’d give us all of this, then… then maybe she _would_ talk to us.”

 

“Well, we’ll have to see what we can do, and if we can’t get her to… then we can’t. But for now, I think we need to call the prosecutor’s office and see what they have to say about this.”

 

Kris waited until Adam nodded slowly in agreement before taking out his phone and dialing the number.


	61. Chapter 61

“All right. Okay. Thanks for your help. We’ll let you know if anything changes. Thanks.”

 

Kris let out a heavy sigh as he hung up the phone, hesitating before turning to face Adam with the discouraging information the prosecutor had given him. His heart ached as he took in the anxious set of Adam’s posture, one arm crossed over his torso and fidgeting nervously with his other sleeve as he watched Kris a little too closely. The guarded expression of resignation on Adam’s face made it even harder for Kris to relay the bad news he’d just received.

 

“So… she says we need to go ahead and bring this stuff over, that… it might help, but…”

 

“But it’s inadmissible. Right?”

 

Kris hesitated before giving a slow, reluctant nod in response. Adam looked away, sinking down into the chair behind him and nodding in acceptance.

 

“I thought so.”

 

“She says that we can’t really prove where we got it. There might be something in all of this that will give them another angle to use, or maybe lead to other evidence, but the defense could say that we made all this stuff up on our own. In a court of law, it doesn’t really prove anything…” Kris hesitated, sitting down across from Adam and watching him carefully as he continued, “… unless we have testimony to corroborate it.”

 

Adam frowned, looking up to meet Kris’s eyes again. “What does that mean? _Whose_ testimony?”

 

“She said that… if we can convince the person who gave it to us to testify – to tell the court where she got it and how, and to verify that she gave it to us – then the evidence might be admissible after all.”

 

Adam’s shoulders fell and he looked away, crossing both arms over his stomach and shifting nervously in his seat. He bit his lower lip for a moment, shaking his head slowly.

 

“She won’t.” His voice was soft, defeated. “She would never be willing to do that.”

 

Kris frowned. “But she went out of her way to make sure we had all this stuff to begin with.” He waved a hand to indicate the mess of papers still spread out across the table. “She obviously wants to help, right?”

 

Adam’s expression was distant, a little lost. Kris studied him closely, a hollow uneasiness forming in the pit of his stomach at the haunted look in his boyfriend’s eyes. Adam stared down at his lap, swallowing hard, his words halting and broken as he struggled to respond.

 

“I… I’m not so sure. She… she never cared… _before,_ and… I just… I don’t think she’d… go that far. For me. Maybe she feels… guilty, or something, and… this is… easing her conscience, but… taking any actual risk? I think that’s… not something she’d be willing to do.”

 

“ _Adam_.” Kris scooted his chair closer to Adam’s, leaning forward and reaching out to clasp one of Adam’s hands in his, pulling it forward to rest on his knees – pulling him out of his subconsciously defensive posture. His voice softened as he hesitantly ventured, “Adam… what makes you say that? Help me understand.”?”

 

Adam didn’t resist Kris’s gentle grip on his hand, but he didn’t meet Kris’s gaze, or make any attempt to respond, for long enough that Kris began to think he wasn’t going to. Then, finally, he broke the silence, his voice small and uncertain.

 

“She just… she just _watched_.”

 

There was a hurt, lost sound in Adam’s voice that tore at Kris’s heart. His eyes were tightly closed, as if he was trying to shut out his dark, unpleasant memories. Kris thought those memories might be better fought with his eyes open and focused on the present, instead of closed to everything but the frightening past images in his mind – but he didn’t say anything, simply gave Adam’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze and waited patiently for him to go on.

 

“Jordan… he… he’d get so angry, when I’d… when I’d talk to the wrong person at an event, or… or if someone was flirting with me, and… and he didn’t always… he didn’t always wait until we got home.” A tear slipped down Adam’s cheek, and he shook his head slowly. “He… he’d scream at me and… and call me a slut, and… slap me and ch-choke me and… anything he _could_ do to me while he was sitting down in the car, and…” He looked up at last, meeting Kris’s eyes with despair in his own. “She was right there, Kris. She saw it – or at least heard it, but… the point is, she _knew_. And… she just let it happen. She… never said anything, or… tried to help at all.”

 

A white-hot rage began to build in Kris’s chest at what he was hearing, and he found himself wishing he’d known all of this when Julie had approached him in the coffee shop. But then, if he had known, he realized, he might have scared her off before she’d given him the evidence.

 

 

 _She did try to help, at least a little,_ he reminded himself. _Maybe she’s come around. Maybe she realizes now how badly she screwed up, and that’s why she’s doing this._

 

 _Or maybe she’s still just as much under Jordan’s thumb as ever. Maybe this is some kind of trap_.

 

Kris had to push back the overwhelming sense of frustration he felt, had to consciously fight the clenching of his hand around Adam’s, unwilling to allow his anger to frighten Adam when he was already so obviously struggling with this.

 

“One time, I… I tried to leave. It was still… really early on, before… before I knew how… how bad it really was. How bad it would _get_ ,” Adam continued in a hoarse, trembling voice. “I asked her to bring the car around, and she… she said she would, but… she didn’t show up, and… and then _Jordan_ … Jordan came up behind me, and…” Adam raised his free hand to cover his face, his shoulders shaking as he struggled to maintain his composure. He looked up at last, meeting Kris’s eyes. “She never did bring the car around. She must have… she must have called him as soon as she got off the phone with me. I… it was the first time I… I really thought he was going to _kill_ me…”

 

It was the first time in his life that chivalrous, well-bred, southern Kris Allen had wanted so desperately to punch a woman in the face.

 

 

 _She didn’t just turn a blind eye – though that would have been bad enough,_ he realized. _She_ helped _Jordan keep him a prisoner there. She kept him from being able to escape._

 

 

 _God, she nearly got him_ killed _– who knows how many times?_

 

“Adam,” he said softly, fighting to keep back the tremor of rage from his own voice, to focus not on his anger at Julie, but on the support that Adam needed from him in that moment. “Adam… whatever you want to do… that’s what we’ll do. Okay? However you want to handle this, but… but I really think we should at least _ask_ her. Maybe she _won’t_ help, but… we should at least try. If she would testify, and… and all this evidence can be used in the trial, then… it’d be worth it.”

 

Adam nodded slowly, raising his free hand again to wipe at his eyes. “You’re right,” he said at last. “We need to ask, and… the worst thing she can do at this point is to say no.” He looked up to meet Kris’s gaze again, and Kris was startled by the smoldering anger he saw there, mingled with the hurt and confusion. “And if she _does_ say no… I’ve got a few things I’d like to say to _her_.”

 

*************************************************

 

An hour later, Adam stood with Kris on Julie’s front door step, flanked by two security guards, waiting for her to answer the door. He’d had to fight back the impulse to reach out and stop Kris’s hand the moment before he rang the bell, momentarily certain that this was a very bad idea. As they stood there waiting, his imagination began to get the better of him, devising various scenarios in which their plan could go terribly wrong.

 

What if it’s a trap? What if she’s going to try to say that we attacked her and get charges pressed against me or Kris, to make us look bad before the trial? Or what if Jordan knew this is what we would do, and she’s working for him, and she’s got a gun and she’s supposed to eliminate us before we can testify?

 

 God, what if Jordan’s in there waiting? What if…?

 

“Adam.”

 

Adam flinched slightly at the gentle touch on his arm, reminding himself a moment later that there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just Kris. He forced a tight, distracted smile, well aware even as he did that Kris wasn’t buying it.

 

“It’s gonna be fine. The worst she can do is say no.”

 

Unfortunately, Adam wasn’t at all sure that that was Julie’s _worst_.

 

Fortunately, before his mind could envision any more horrible possibilities, the door opened, and Julie was standing before them – looking smaller than he remembered, pale and terrified, and nowhere near as cold and vicious as his memory had made her out to be. Her dark eyes were wide and startled when she saw them, and she shook her head slowly in denial.

 

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she stated, her voice trembling as she tried to push the door shut again.

 

Kris reached out to catch it, holding it firmly as he took a step forward. “Wait,” he insisted, his voice quiet but unyielding. “We _need_ to talk to you, Julie. Just for a couple of minutes, _please_.”

 

Julie glanced fearfully out at the four of them, glancing up and down the sidewalk and biting her lower lip. “No.” She shook her head emphatically. “You have to go…”

 

“We’re not going anywhere until we’ve spoken with you,” Kris informed her.

 

Those words seemed to increase Julie’s panic, her voice rising as she argued frantically, “If he finds out you were here…”

 

“Then I guess you’d better let us in quickly,” Kris suggested, his tone mild and yet touched with a stubborn note that Adam recognized, a note that made it clear that he would not be giving in. “Because we’re a lot more obvious standing out here than we would be sitting in your living room.”

 

Julie bit her lower lip, visibly trembling. She looked as if she was on the verge of tears – but at last, she stepped back, opening the door and beckoning them to hurry inside. She led them toward her living room, then turned to face them, her arms folded tightly over her chest, her jaw set stubbornly as she stared down at the floor.

 

Adam noticed that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to look at him once since they’d gotten there.

 

“I don’t know what you think you’re accomplishing by coming here,” she informed them. “I already did all I can do to help you. I don’t have anything else to say.”

 

“And we appreciate your help,” Kris countered. “But… it’s not enough.”

 

Julie looked up at him, a suspicious frown creasing her brow as Adam and Kris sat down together on the sofa across from her. The guards remained standing, one at either end of the room, watching carefully for any signs of a threat.

 

“It’s no good to us as evidence in court, unless we can prove to the jury where we got it,” Kris explained quietly, holding her gaze. “So… it’s great that you gave it to us, but… in order for it to really help, we need you to testify.”

 

“ _No_!” Julie objected, eyes wide with alarm. “I can’t… I can’t _do_ that!”

 

“This is a waste of time,” Adam declared abruptly, rising to his feet. “I _told_ you she wouldn’t help!”

 

“I’m _trying_!” Julie insisted, frustration clear in her pleading voice as she finally addressed Adam directly. “Can’t you see that?”

 

“Yeah, and when did you start _that_ , exactly?” Adam glared down at her, his voice trembling with fury. “Nice of you to make the decision that you can’t stand sitting there watching and doing nothing anymore, now that I’m _away_ from him! But you really haven’t made that decision, have you? Looks to me like that’s _still_ what you’re doing!”

 

“You don’t understand!” Julie cried out, rising to her feet as Adam headed for the door. “I’m _trying_ to make this right, but…”

 

“You can’t _ever_ make it right!” Adam snapped, spinning around to face her again. “You can’t go back and _do_ something to help me, all those times he almost killed me and you just put up the privacy glass and pretended it wasn’t happening! You think handing us a few pictures and notes that we can’t even use makes up for that? Well, it doesn’t! If you really wanna help, sometimes that means taking a chance! And you’re obviously too much of a coward to do that!” He turned toward Kris, nodding toward the door. “Come on, let’s go. This is worthless.”

 

They were almost at the door, the security guards trailing in their wake, when Julie’s quiet voice, strained and hoarse with tears, stopped them.

 

“ _Wait_.”

 

Adam didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to give anything to this woman who hadn’t even been willing to give him a _chance_ to survive – but the desperation in her tone compelled him, and he slowly, reluctantly turned to face her again, his hand on the door.

 

“I… I can’t testify in court. I can’t… can’t take the chance on what he’ll do to me, but… but I know I owe you some answers. And… I’ll give them to you, if you’ll let me.”


	62. Chapter 62

“It’s not like you think.”

 

Julie’s quiet, trembling protest brought the room to silence, as both Kris and Adam stopped in their tracks. A few feet from the door, Adam stood still for a long moment before slowly returning to the living room and slowly, pointedly taking his seat again.

 

Julie bowed her head, reluctantly sitting down on the edge of the chair across from the sofa. Kris sat down beside Adam, silently reaching out to take his hand from the seat between them as they waited expectantly for Julie’s explanation. She swallowed hard, not looking up to meet either of their eyes as she visibly struggled for words.

 

“I… I never meant for… it’s not like I ever _wanted_ you to get hurt. I… I didn’t know…”

 

“Please.” Kris interrupted, his words coming out harder than he’d intended, and even as he spoke, he felt Adam’s hand tighten around his, a silent warning to maintain his control. “You have _eyes_. How could you–”

 

“When I _started_.” Julie raised her voice to be heard over Kris’s protest, a defensive note to her words as she glanced up at Adam before quickly looking away again. “When I first started working for him, I… I thought I was going to be working for _Adam._ I thought… I didn’t know about… about Jordan. What he was like.”

 

Kris had no objection to that explanation – and judging by the taut, careful neutrality of Adam’s expression, neither did he. Kris felt a pang of sympathy as he realized that Adam could probably relate all too well to what Julie was talking about – to the deception of Jordan’s expertly perfected first impression.

 

“It only took a couple of weeks, though. For me to notice that something was… not right. And… I wanted to quit. I tried to give him my notice, but… he said if I did, he’d make sure I’d never get another job in this town, doing anything, and… I told him that didn’t matter, I didn’t want to be involved with… with what was going on…”

 

“You should have gone directly to the police,” Kris broke in, terse, restrained anger in his voice. “You were prepared to just walk away and not say anything to anyone? Pretend you didn’t know what was happening?”

 

Julie flinched slightly, nervously raising one hand to push her hair back from her face and staring down at her lap.

 

“Why’d you stay?”

 

Adam’s voice was quiet, his gaze intent and focused, as he drew the conversation back to the point, and away from Kris’s angry accusations. Kris glanced up at him, suddenly feeling a little guilty for letting his emotions get the better of him so much. The last thing they needed was to frighten or shame Julie to the point that she was no longer willing to talk to them.

 

 _If anyone has a reason to be pissed with her, it’s Adam – and_ he’s _managing to keep it together._

 _The least you can do is the same._

 

“Because…” Julie hesitated, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. “Because of… my residency status.”

 

Kris frowned for a moment. “Wait. So you’re saying you’re…”

 

“Not in this country legally,” Julie confirmed his suspicions with a grim nod. “I’ve lived here my entire life. Don’t have any trace of an accent, nothing that would even begin to give me away – but he knew, and he said that if I tried to quit, or to tell anyone what I’d seen, he’d turn me in and have me deported.”

 

“So you’d rather just sit there in the driver’s seat of the car and watch him nearly kill Adam right in front of you?”

 

A part of Kris’s mind – a tiny, quiet part nearly completely drowned out by the protective outrage he was feeling on Adam’s behalf – reminded him that it was not a particularly compassionate attitude to take toward Julie’s situation. He knew that it had to be a scary proposition, to think of being forced out of the only home someone had ever known and sent away to a foreign, unfamiliar country. Still, he couldn’t get past the mental image of her simply sitting in the car with Jordan and Adam and _ignoring_ it as Jordan beat and terrorized his boyfriend.

 

“That’s not all,” Julie insisted, defensive. “I… have a little boy.”

 

Kris blinked, caught off guard by that unexpected news, and momentarily distracted from his outrage.

 

“His name is Jacob. He’s two years old, and he was born here, so he’s an American citizen. So’s his father, and… we’re not together, but… but he’s still very involved in our son’s life. It’s all very civil and there’s no real hard feelings, but still… if I was to be deported, there’s no way he’d just stand by and let me take Jacob away to somewhere he’ll never see him again, and… if he tried to get custody, I know he’d win. He’d keep Jacob here, and I’d get sent to El Salvador, and… and I’d never see my baby again.”

 

Julie’s last words were choked and hoarse, as she fought back a sob, shaking her head as she lowered it into her hands.

 

“I’m sorry, I just… I couldn’t take that chance. I couldn’t risk losing my _baby_ …” Julie broke down, tears streaming from her eyes as she looked up at them. “You have to understand – I didn’t have a choice! I was trying to protect my baby!”

“ _Were_ you?” Kris’s tone was sharp. “So, he wouldn’t be safe with his father?”

 

Julie frowned. “I didn’t say that…”

 

“Is he abusive? Unfit?” Kris pressed, well aware that he was allowing his anger to get the better of him, but unable to stop the words of challenge that fell from his lips. “Is there any reason why you think your baby would be _unsafe_ with his dad?”

 

“N-no,” Julie admitted with rising frustration. “It’s not… you don’t understand!”

 

“I think I kind of do,” Kris insisted, his voice trembling with anger. “This isn’t about protecting your kid. What it’s about is you not being willing to give him up. He’d be safe without you, you just don’t want to have to lose him.” His voice softened at the shocked look on Julie’s face, and the inscrutable expression Adam was currently giving him, as he concluded, “I’m not saying it’d be easy, for you, or for him. But – let’s not try to make it sound more noble than it actually was.” He was quiet for a moment, looking away under the strange pressure of the unreadable look in Adam’s eyes. “I’m just saying,” he finished. “there’s always a choice.”

 

There was silence for a long, tense moment, before Adam broke it calmly, his quiet, thoughtful voice conveying far more understanding and compassion than Kris was capable of giving on his behalf.

 

“Maybe you didn’t feel like you had one, Julie. But… you must feel like you do _now,_ in spite of the blackmail material he has on you. Or you wouldn’t have decided to help me.”

 

“Anonymously,” Julie pointed out. “He’s got as much on anybody else in that house as he’s got on me, and if he can’t prove who gave you the evidence, then… then I guess _everybody’s_ safe.”

 

“Or everybody’s in danger,” Kris countered, one eyebrow dubiously raised. “What’s to stop him from telling _everybody’s_ secrets, if he doesn’t know who to blame?”

 

Adam looked at him sharply for a moment in alarm – but then, Kris saw understanding begin to dawn in his eyes as he realized where Kris was headed with this line of thought. He nodded slowly, turning to look at Julie again before speaking.

 

“The thing is, Julie – no matter how much you do as he says and do your best to keep him happy, he’s eventually going to find some reason to turn on you. And even if he doesn’t, you’re constantly living with that threat hanging over your head. You can’t trust him to keep your secret, regardless of what you do. So don’t you think it’s best to just take the power away from him once and for all?”

 

Julie shook her head, her eyes fearful and confused. “But… but when he turns me in…”

 

“He won’t exactly be the most reliable witness if he’s in prison – and if you testify, he _will_ go to prison,” Kris replied with only a little more confidence than he actually felt. “We can talk to the prosecutor’s office, see if we can work out some kind of a deal with you to help you with your residency, in exchange for your testimony…”

 

Julie opened her mouth to protest, but Adam hurried to offer before she could, “And even if the prosecutor isn’t willing to make a deal – between the two of us, Kris and I have some pretty amazing lawyers. We’ll pay them to help you with your residency, or citizenship, or whatever you want to go for, Julie. The fact that you have a child here, and that you have custody of that child, should be enough to at least keep you here until a final decision is made – and our lawyers can help make sure that decision is in your favor.”

 

Julie stared down at the coffee table between them, very still and silent, clearly considering his offer – but she didn’t say anything, and the worry in her expression made it clear that she still had her doubts.

 

“Adam’s right,” Kris pointed out softly. “You can’t just go on living like this forever – under his thumb, just waiting for him to get pissed off enough to carry through with his threats.”

 

“If he keeps threatening to do it, eventually he will,” Adam added, staring down at his lap and swallowing hard, struggling to control the tremor in his quiet, heartbreaking words. “And… waiting for it to happen… living in that kind of fear… eventually, it’ll break you. Trust me. I know.”

 

Julie flinched at those words, glancing guiltily up at Adam before looking away again, wiping tears from her eyes with one hand.

 

“Julie.” Kris sat forward a little in his seat, ignoring the wary look Adam gave him. He supposed he deserved it; he hadn’t exactly been the most civil with Julie thus far. “I haven’t made a secret of the fact that I’m … pretty pissed off over what you did. What you – _allowed_ Jordan to do – to Adam. I – I love him, and… and I can’t stand to think of him suffering, and _anyone_ just standing there watching when they could have stopped it. But – that’s all in the past now, and… and I don’t have the right to judge you for that. You’re trying to help _now_ , and that’s what matters. And…” He hesitated, glancing up to meet Adam’s eyes as he concluded slowly, “… and that means that _now_ – we’re on your side. We’re willing to help you in any way that we can – to make sure that you don’t lose your baby and you don’t have to leave the country. We’ll help you, but – you have to help us, too.”

 

Adam nodded in agreement, turning an intent, pleading look on Julie, who was staring between them in fearful indecision. “Please, Julie,” he said softly. “Please – help me stop him.”

 

Julie bit her lip, unsure. “You’ll… you’ll help me? You’ll help me stay here, with my son?”

 

“We’ll do everything we can,” Adam promised, meeting her eyes directly, his jaw set with determination.

 

Julie held Adam’s gaze for a long moment, searching, uncertain, before finally nodding slowly. “O-okay,” she whispered. “Okay… I’ll do it.”

 

*******************************************

 

Monday morning found Kris, Adam, and Leila making their way into the courthouse, surrounded by a horde of paparazzi with their loud, obnoxious questions and flashing cameras.

 

The sudden, cool quiet as the doors closed behind them and shut out the paparazzi was a blessed relief, and Adam drew in a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady his nerves. His palm was damp against Kris’s hand in his, and he grimaced as they made their way toward the courtroom.

  
 _That's gotta feel really disgusting..._

  
He withdrew his hand from Kris’s, lips parted to utter an apology, but Kris spoke first.

 

“I’m sorry. My hands are really gross right now.”

 

He blinked at Kris, caught off guard for a moment, before he realized Kris’s misunderstanding – and the fact that Kris was nearly as nervous about this as he was. He felt a rush of warm affection for his boyfriend, in spite of his recent confusion about their relationship and what the future held for them.

 

He loves me, I know he does, even if he doesn’t always get it right… and I love him too, so much…

 

Adam forced a brave smile to reassure Kris as they took their seats in the courtroom to wait for the proceedings to begin.

 

 _I just hope that’s enough._


	63. Chapter 63

Kris’s heart pounded as the bailiff gave the command for all to rise for the judge’s entrance. His legs felt shaky and unsteady as he pulled himself to his feet, swallowing to wet his dry throat. As the prosecutor stepped forward to make her opening statement, Kris tried to steady his nerves.

  
 _This is it..._

  
The planning, the evidence, the witnesses they’d accumulated over the past few weeks – he just hoped that it would all prove to be enough.

  
The first witnesses to give their testimony were Officer Rush and Officer Hentley, the two police officers who’d responded to the call that first night, when Jordan had been arrested.  

 

The sight of their vaguely familiar faces took Kris’s mind back to when Adam had returned to his life, just a few short weeks earlier, and the fear he’d seen in Adam’s eyes as he’d tried to convince the police officers, and the security guards, and Kris, that nothing was wrong – that he had hurt himself by accident, and there was no reason to take his boyfriend away in handcuffs.

 

It hurt to remember the events of that night, as the police officers recounted how they’d been called to the scene, how they’d observed the plainly visible injuries on Adam’s face and throat, and yet how Adam had refused to press charges, claiming that his injuries were accidental.

 

“The police report states that Mr. Lambert denied being attacked by the defendant at the time of the alleged incident. Is that correct?” the attorney pressed.

 

“Yes, that’s correct.”

 

“Well, then, if Mr. Lambert denied being attacked – why are we here today, Officer Rush?”

 

“Objection…”

 

“I’ll restate the question. Officer Rush – if Mr. Lambert didn’t make the initial accusation against my client, then who did?”

 

“Mr. Allen.”

 

“Kris Allen – Mr. Lambert’s _current_ boyfriend – is the one who made the initial accusation – against my client, Mr. Lambert’s _former_ boyfriend.” The attorney’s face bore a slightly disbelieving smirk, and he cast a pointedly knowing look toward the jury before returning his attention to the witness. “Is that what you’re telling me, Officer?”

 

“Well…” The officer frowned, clearly displeased with the light in which the attorney was painting the situation, but aware that it _was_ strictly the truth. “… I suppose it is. Yes.”

 

Kris’s jaw clenched with frustration at the underhanded tactics Jordan’s attorney was using, and his anger began to rise as he noticed a brief look exchanged between the attorney and his client – a look of subtle but clear satisfaction.

 

Knowing now what he hadn’t then – how thoroughly under Jordan’s control everything about Adam’s environment had been, to the point that Adam hadn’t even been able to get back into his own home – Kris felt a fresh rush of anger toward the man sitting near the front of the court room, watching the proceedings with a cool, composed expression on his face.

 

 _He thinks he’s going to control this, too – to control the jury’s perceptions, to control the testimony, to the point that everyone will fall for his lies like they usually do…_

 _… but they won’t… because we’re not going to let that happen. No, not this time…_

 

Kris glanced toward Adam, but couldn’t seem to catch his gaze. Adam spent most of the officers’ testimony staring down at his lap. However,  every few seconds, his gaze seemed to drift back toward his ex-boyfriend, as if drawn against his will. His face was pale and his hands were trembling, and he looked as if he was going to be sick.

 

Kris reached out instinctively to grasp Adam’s hand on the seat between them – then barely managed to suppress a flinch at the way Adam tensed under his touch, not quite pulling away, but obviously not welcoming it.

 

Kris withdrew his hand, forcing his focus toward the front of the room, and trying not to feel the sting of Adam’s silent, subtle rejection.

 

He just didn’t understand.

 

Sometimes, Adam seemed grateful for his comforting touch, for his closeness, and would willingly accept Kris’s hand in his, or his arms around him. But then, other times, like now – Adam seemed to be surrounded by walls designed specifically to keep Kris out. He would offer a brittle smile and rehearsed reassurances that he was all right, all while everything about his tone, his expression, his body language _screamed_ a warning at Kris to keep his distance, not to attempt to breach the barriers that protected Adam from – whatever it was he felt the need to hide from.

  
 _Not me... please, don't let it be me..._

  
Kris felt a little sick as the thought crossed his mind, not for the first time, and he tried to shut it out, to focus on the crisis of the moment, rather than the more long-term crisis that he knew they’d eventually have to deal with – the fact that he had no idea at all where they stood anymore, and he was fairly certain that Adam didn’t know, either.

 

 _Don’t think about it,_ Kris sternly reminded himself. _That’s an issue for another time – a time after Jordan has been put away for good, and can’t hurt Adam ever again. Then, we’ll both have the time and freedom and peace of mind to deal with – whatever personal issues there are between us._

 

Adam’s doctor, the one who’d examined him and taken pictures to be used as evidence of the abuse he’d endured, was the next to take the stand.

 

As he calmly listed the various injuries he’d noted during the examination, Kris noticed that Adam was no longer looking toward Jordan, or anywhere for that matter. He was staring down at his lap, his white-knuckled fingers folded tightly together, his face flushed with humiliation.

 

Kris’s heart ached for Adam, and he longed to reach out for him, to offer some kind of silent support – but he knew that in this moment, it would not be welcomed. All he could do was sit there and listen in miserable recognition as the doctor spoke with clinical precision about the deep bruises that had covered Adam’s neck and torso – the crushed bones that Jordan had brutally shattered in Adam’s hand, that had taken so long to heal – the scars of cigarette burns scattered across Adam’s thighs and abdomen, permanent reminders every time he took off his clothes, of the shame and degradation to which he’d been subjected.

  
 _Of course he's humiliated..._

  
Kris wanted to cry.

 

 _Who wouldn’t be? Every weakness, every scar, dragged out into the light for the entire world to see… it’s not fair._

 _The only person who should be feeling shame today is Jordan._

 

Monica testified after that, giving her perspective on the change in Adam during his relationship with Jordan, and how he’d gradually reduced his visits to her, until he’d finally stopped coming altogether.

 

Leila and several of Adam’s friends testified as to how they’d attempted to make contact with Adam many times during the course of the destructive relationship, and how those attempts had been thwarted.

 

Finally, Kris’s name was called. He drew in a deep, shaky breath as he rose to his feet and made his way to the witness stand. He focused his thoughts on what he’d seen and heard that night, when he’d returned to Adam’s dressing room. It was difficult to get through it, and Kris found himself struggling over the words as he described seeing Adam down on his knees, pleading for his life, with Jordan’s strong hands locked around his throat until he nearly passed out.

 

Kris cleared his throat, blinking to clear the blurring of his vision as the prosecutor took her seat again, and Jordan’s lawyer approached him. The first few questions were simple enough – questions about the nature of Kris’s relationship with Adam, his feelings for Adam, what Kris thought of Jordan. It was basically nothing more than the attorney’s attempt to paint Kris’s testimony with the bias of his and Adam’s relationship, to make the jury doubt his honesty and objectivity.

 

Kris had expected that. He knew that one of the major weaknesses in their case was the fact that Adam hadn’t chosen to come forward with his accusations against Jordan until he had done so under Kris’s influence. Of course, it made sense that Jordan’s attorneys would try to make Kris look like a manipulative con artist who had conceived the whole idea in order to steal Adam – and Adam’s financial assets – away from Jordan.

 

“So, Mr. Allen… when the police arrived, do you recall what Mr. Lambert described as the scene you interrupted?”

 

“Objection, Your Honor.” The prosecuting attorney stood up before Kris could speak. “Calls for the witness to repeat hearsay.”

 

“I withdraw the question, Your Honor.” Jordan’s defense attorney quickly spoke up. “Fortunately I have the police report right here, and it will clearly show what Mr. Lambert described that night.” The attorney held up a set of papers and began to leaf through them, then to read a portion he had marked. “Mr. Lambert stated that he had previously injured his hand, and he lost his balance and hit his injured hand against the corner of the table. The pain made him fall, and Mr. Brenner was attempting to help him up when you walked through the door.”

 

“By the throat?” Kris raised one eyebrow, glaring at the man. “Because that’s where Jordan had a hold of him when I walked into the room.”

 

“Mr. Brenner is a very big man, isn’t he, Mr. Allen?” the attorney continued, his mouth twitching slightly with amusement, and Kris realized that he probably could have objected to Kris’s comment if he’d wanted to, but he was apparently too confident in his line of questioning to bother. “Much taller than you, isn’t that right?”

 

“Yes,” Kris replied, frowning slightly, uncertain where he was going with this.

 

“So when you entered the room… was Mr. Lambert directly in front of you?”

 

“No. Mr. Brenner was directly in front of me, with his back to me. Adam was on the other side of him.”

 

“On his knees – correct?”

 

Kris felt an uneasy sensation in the pit of his stomach, but he nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

 

“So, Mr. Allen, with the much taller defendant in the way, his hands reaching downward, presumably, to either help Mr. Lambert up or choke him, as you allege – can you tell me how it’s possible that you could have been sure exactly _what_ you saw?”

 

“I… I _know_ what I saw,” Kris insisted, trying to keep the frustrated tremor from his voice. “Adam was… was begging Jordan to stop…”

 

“I thought you said he was being choked.” The attorney frowned in exaggerated confusion, casting a pointed look toward the jury. “How could he speak if he was unable to breathe?”

 

“I… I _saw_ …”

 

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

 

Kris’s testimony was the last of the day – the last impression that would be left with the jury before they went to their respective homes to mull over all the information they’d taken in that day.

 

Kris couldn’t help feeling like he’d let Adam down.

 

***************************************************

 

The drive home was quiet and tense, each of them lost in their own thoughts, neither particularly inclined to share them. Finally, Kris broke the silence, his voice soft and subdued.

 

“I’m sorry, Adam. I… I screwed up.”

 

Adam was quiet for a long moment, but then he shook his head slowly. “No, you didn’t,” he replied. “You told the truth. You said… everything you could have said. Besides, it’s… it’s not like everything hinges on that one incident, out of… out of everything they’ve talked about… all the… the _evidence_ that…” Adam’s words broke off abruptly, choked and hoarse, and he turned his head away, looking out the window.

 

His heart heavy with his own disappointment and helplessness, Kris didn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive. He didn’t reach out to touch Adam, or offer any further words of reassurance or comfort.

 

It seemed to him he’d done and said quite enough wrong for one day.

 

When they got home, Adam retreated to their shared bedroom without a word, closing the door behind him.

 

Kris wandered around downstairs for a little while – turning on the TV and then turning it off again, straightening a kitchen that didn’t really need to be straightened – and then finally ventured up the stairs to the bedroom door.

 

It felt like a stone wall.

 

Finally, Kris managed to gather the strength to push past it and walk into the room.

 

 _If he does need me, and I just leave him alone to struggle through this by himself…_

 _I just… I just have to make sure._

 

Adam was lying on the bed, facing the door, still in the dress slacks and button-down shirt he’d worn to court. He didn’t speak as Kris entered, though his haunted eyes silently followed Kris’s movements, distracted and disinterested.

 

“Are you… are you okay?” Kris asked, softly breaking the silence between them.

 

Adam, for his part, seemed determined to maintain it.

 

“Is there… anything I can do? Anything you need?”

 

Adam stared down at the floor, shaking his head listlessly.

 

Kris was silent for a moment as he slowly, cautiously crossed the room to stand beside the bed. The strain of the awkward tension between them was overwhelming, and Kris fought back the frustrated confusion he was feeling, unsure what he could say or do to ease it. The only thing he could think to do was to simply break the silence that seemed to have such a hold over Adam.

 

“So… besides my total suckage today… I think the testimonies went pretty well,” he offered, his tone anxious and hopeful. “I think they really can’t get past the pictures the doctor took, or the police reports from Jordan’s arrest, or any of that. I think… I think we have a really good shot here, so…”

 

Kris’s voice trailed off, and Adam made no attempt to pick up the conversation and continue it. Instead, he turned his head further into the pillow beneath it, closing his eyes in a visible attempt to block out Kris’s words.

 

To block out _Kris_.

 

Kris tried again to push back the anger and frustration he felt at Adam’s unexplained rejection, reminding himself that this whole thing wasn’t _about_ him. It was about _Adam_ – and if Adam needed space right now, for whatever reason, no matter how unfair it felt to him, Kris was just going to have to accept that.

  
 _After the trial... if we can just get through the trial..._

  
“I’ll… I’ll just go,” he offered quietly. “I’m sorry to be bothering you like this, if you want to be alone…”

 

Kris turned and headed back toward the door – then froze at the unexpected feeling of a warm, soft hand closing around his, halting his retreat. He turned slowly, cautiously, to see Adam pulling himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyes were closed, his shoulders slumped and head bowed in defeat, but he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and ragged with exhaustion.

 

“I… I don’t want to talk.”

 

Kris considered his words for a moment, nodding slowly, warily, though Adam couldn’t see the gesture.

 

“Okay,” he conceded gently. “You don’t have to.”

 

“I… don’t want you to talk, either,” Adam continued, finally looking up at Kris, something lost and tormented and pleading in his eyes, tearing at Kris’s heart. “I just… can’t you just…” He struggled over the words, swallowing back a sob before looking up at Kris, silent tears streaking his face. “Can you just stay here with me for a little while?” he whispered. “And… and hold me? Please?”

 

Kris felt his own tears welling up in his eyes, obstructing his vision, but he nodded readily, sitting down on the bed beside Adam and putting his arms around him. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Adam’s shoulder and biting his lower lip to keep back the words that wanted to spill from his lips – promises that everything was going to be all right, promises to do better – whatever “better” was – apologies for not being whatever it was that Adam so desperately needed right now.

 

Adam had made it clear that he wanted none of that right now.

 

And Kris was determined that in this moment, while he could, he would give Adam exactly what he wanted.

 

He gently pushed Adam down on the bed, back into a position resembling the one in which he’d found him, and then lay down behind him, wrapping his arms around him and sliding one leg between Adam’s, shifting in until he couldn’t get any closer.

  
 _I love you… I love you… I love you so much, Adam… so much..._

  
Words that were, for the moment, denied him, filled his mind, his chest aching with the swell of how deeply he felt them, as he just held Adam, eyes closed against the hot tears that streamed from them to soak the back of Adam’s shirt. Adam said nothing, but Kris could feel him pressing back against him, clearly longing for the contact as much as Kris did – and it was a small comfort.

 

They lay like that, in silence weighted with all they couldn’t say – as close as they could get to each other without actually _touching,_ at least not where Kris _wanted_ to be – deep down where Adam wouldn’t let him reach – until they both fell asleep.


	64. Chapter 64

Kris woke up some time later, abruptly alert, although a little disoriented at the much darker lighting the room had taken on while he slept. It took his sleep-foggy brain a few moments longer than it usually would have to process the red digital numbers on the alarm clock beside him – and when it did, he was stunned to realize how long he’d slept.

 

 _1:00 am? Seven_ hours? _Really?_

 __

 _This is all wearing you out. You’re more exhausted than you realized. You_ both _are._

  _  
_

Kris’s stomach clenched with an odd feeling of loss as he suddenly realized what else had changed while he slept. The mattress beside him was cool, the arms that had been wrapped securely around Adam, now empty.

  
 _Adam..._

  
Kris got up quickly, taking just a moment to gain his bearings before making his way down the stairs in search of his missing boyfriend. The kitchen light was on, but Adam was not there, so Kris continued into the living room, guided by the faint, flickering light of the television screen. No other lights were on in the room, but Kris could still make out Adam’s form on the sofa, huddled into one corner of it with his legs drawn up half-under him. He was wrapped in the soft, fleecy red throw that they kept over the back of the sofa, cradling a steaming, fragrant mug in both hands. He was staring at the television screen, but didn’t seem to really be watching it, his thoughts clearly a million miles from what was on it… from this room, even.

  
 _Seems he’s always just barely out of my reach these days...  
_

Kris slowly crossed the room and sat down beside Adam – close enough to touch, but not touching. Adam looked away from the television screen, staring down at his tea – the only indication Kris received that he was even aware Kris was present.

 

After a moment, unable to bear the distance, Kris reached out a tentative hand and rested it on the small patch of skin exposed between Adam’s pajama pants and his socks, just above his ankle.

 

“Want to talk about it?” he offered softly.

 

Adam’s head came up swiftly, his gaze sharp as he looked at Kris – and suddenly Kris felt as if he was being cross-examined again, studied too closely. He felt uncertain, and a little guilty, and wasn’t really sure why. He looked away, swallowing hard, as Adam replied in an oddly level, calm tone.

  
”Talk about what?”

 

“I don’t know.” Kris shrugged, feeling helpless and useless. “Anything. Whatever’s on your mind.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself before looking into Adam’s eyes again and plunging forward. “Whatever – whatever it is I did. Whatever it is you’re – pissed at me about.”

 

Adam looked startled for a moment, trapped – and then he looked away and shook his head, biting his lower lip for a moment before he hesitantly admitted, “I’m _not…_ pissed, exactly. I mean… I don’t _think_ I am. It’s not – it’s just…” He stopped abruptly, letting out a frustrated sigh as he set aside his mug and ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “God, I’m just so _tired_ of – of _all_ of this!” He met Kris’s eyes again, and there was something anguished and defeated there – something that tore at Kris’s heart and set a cold fear in the pit of his stomach. His voice was barely over a whisper as he concluded, “I just can’t _do_ this anymore. I just want it all to be _over_.”

 

Kris could barely breathe, his heart racing as he tried to find the nerve to ask for clarification. “Can’t… can’t do _what_ anymore, Adam?” Kris stared down at his own hand frozen on Adam’s ankle, completely still, though he felt as if he was shaking apart inside. “Want… _what_ to be over, exactly?”

 

Adam shook his head, visibly at a loss. “The trial,” he whispered. “The… the nightmares.” He closed his eyes, and Kris realized with a pang of sympathy what must have awakened Adam – followed immediately by a rush of hurt and worry at why Adam would have come down here alone rather than wake him following his nightmare. “All of it. I just wish… I wish none of it had ever happened, you know? I wish we could just… I don’t know...”

 

“Go back,” Kris supplied softly, nodding. “To… before all of this. Before Jordan.”

 

Adam looked up at him again slowly, an oddly thoughtful look on his face. “Before Jordan – you didn’t want me, Kris.”

 

Kris stared back at Adam, feeling as if he’d been punched in the gut. “Adam… you _know_ I… I couldn’t…”

 

“I know,” Adam acknowledged with a nod. “It’s just… what is there to go back to, really?”

 

Kris’s hand tightened instinctively on Adam’s ankle, and with an effort he made himself ease his grip, trying to force back the panic he felt at Adam’s words. He felt as if something very important was taking place here, something in which it was vital that he make his feelings clear, that he have his say – only he had no idea what exactly it _was_ that was happening.

 

Adam was trying to tell him something – and somehow, he didn’t feel capable of understanding.

  
 _Or maybe, you just don’t_ want _to..._

  
“Well… that’s why… we can’t go back, Adam.” Kris finally found his voice, though the words were just a hoarse whisper in the unnatural stillness of the room. “We can just… move _forward_ , you know? Get through this. _Together_. And then… then see where we are. All right? Because… whatever we need to fix… whatever we need to work through… we can’t do that with this thing with Jordan hanging over our heads.”

 

Adam nodded. “I know.”

 

“Whatever I’ve done…” Kris shook his head, an ache building in his throat, his vision blurring with tears that he blinked quickly away. “… whatever I need to make right… I want to do it. I want you to give me the _chance_ to do it, but… but right now… I just want to help you get through tomorrow. Okay?”

 

Adam nodded again, raising one hand to swipe at his own tears. “Okay,” he whispered.

 

Kris felt an incredible sense of relief at that single word – though deep down, he was pretty sure the feeling was premature – as he took the tentative permission and slid closer to Adam, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He was further encouraged when Adam nestled in close beside him, resting his head in the crook of Kris’s neck and sliding one arm across Kris’s waist, drawing him closer.

 

 

 _“I love you.”_

 

Kris whispered the words, closing his eyes and desperately hoping, hating himself for his own need that pushed them from his lips, regardless of whether or not they were what _Adam_ needed to hear at the moment. He knew it was selfish, but despite Adam’s physical closeness, he could feel him slipping away, and needed to hear those words repeated back to him, needed the reassurance that Adam was still his.

 

He received the punishment for his selfishness in Adam’s silence, as those words went unanswered, and Kris sat there, quietly aching for what they were losing, and not really sure why they were losing it.

 

***********************************************

 

Julie gave her testimony the following morning.

 

She seemed very nervous and self-conscious, which Adam had expected. After all, they’d barely managed to convince her to come here at all. And now, she was sitting on the witness stand, surrounded by people who, for the most part, were not likely to find her very sympathetic. She kept casting guilty glances toward the jury, as if expecting them to pass judgment on _her_ as well as Jordan – and then back to Adam again.

 

He tried to smile when she looked his way, tried to make her understand that for all her past mistakes, he appreciated what she was doing and why – but she never made eye contact with him for long enough for him to be sure whether or not he was getting the message across.

 

“Are you aware of the nature of the allegations against Mr. Brenner, Miss Guevara?” the prosecuting attorney asked, and Adam drew in a deep breath, hoping that Julie would be able to get through this.

 

Julie nodded before remembering that she had to speak aloud. “Yes, I am.”

 

“And in your experience as an employee of Mr. Brenner, did you at any time witness any behavior that might support those allegations?”

 

Julie hesitated, and Adam recognized the fear in her eyes as her gaze darted momentarily toward Jordan. His heart sank, because although he couldn’t see Jordan’s face from where he sat, he knew what he would have seen if he could – and he knew that Julie’s entire testimony rested on this moment.

  
 _Don’t do it… don’t let him get into your head like that, look away,_ look away...

  
Julie finally tore her gaze away from Jordan’s, focusing on the attorney still waiting for her response.

 

“I did,” she replied, her voice trembling but firm.

 

“Tell us about what you witnessed between Mr. Lambert and Mr. Brenner during your time working as their driver.”

 

“Well… at first everything seemed normal. They seemed to argue a lot – or rather, Mr. Brenner seemed to _yell_ a lot,” Julie amended darkly. “He would say the most cruel, hateful things. He called Adam – Mr. Lambert – all sorts of names…”

 

“What kind of names? Do you recall?”

 

Julie bit her lower lip, looking up at Adam regretfully for a moment before replying, “Slut. Whore. He… he called him stupid all the time, accused him of flirting with other guys and… and cheating on him.”

 

“Did you ever witness a point when things escalated beyond abusive language?”

 

Julie nodded again, staring down at the stand in front of her. “Yes,” she replied. “It was… gradual. Mr. Brenner would… grab Adam’s hair, or… or push him against the door… and… and then later, he would actually hit him. Slap him, punch him…” She hesitated, and when she went on, her voice was choked, and she couldn’t look up, visibly ashamed. “… slam his… his face into the glass…”

 

“The car window?” The prosecutor clarified, frowning.

 

“The… the privacy glass,” Julie amended. “One time he… he did it so… so h-hard that… Adam was… bleeding, and… and Mr. Brenner… didn’t stop h-hitting him, so… by the time we got home, there was… blood on the seat, and… and on the window…” She hesitated, swallowing hard, blinking away tears as she stared down at her lap. “He stopped me once he and Adam had gotten out of the car, and… and he asked me to… to wipe the backseat down before I left for the night.”

 

Julie flinched, unable to look up as the entire courtroom, jury included, reacted with hushed murmurs of horrified disgust. She hesitated, her voice catching slightly as she went on with visible difficulty.

 

“Sometimes he’d… he’d choke him, too. He didn’t really hold back. He’d do… well, as much as he _could_ do while… while sitting down in the car, you know.”

 

“Do you remember any threats Mr. Brenner might have spoken to Mr. Lambert within your hearing?” the prosecutor asked.

 

“Yes.” Julie’s voice was quiet, trembling, grieved with guilt as she replied. “Once… Adam… asked me to… to help him, and… and Mr. Brenner slapped him across the face and g-grabbed him by the throat and… and told him… if he didn’t shut his stupid, whoring mouth, he’d… he’d kill him right there.”

 

A low murmur rose throughout the room again, and the judge issued a warning tap of her gavel, bringing them back to silence. The prosecutor’s expression was sad as she gave the jury a pointed look and spoke again.

 

“Did Mr. Lambert ever ask for your help again, Miss Guevara?”

 

Julie raised a hand to wipe away tears from her eyes, shaking her head. “No,” she replied, her voice barely audible.

 

“In all this time, all these horrific incidents that you witnessed,” the prosecutor went on after giving a moment for the last information to sink in, “why did you never come forward? Or, I don’t know – just quit, rather than work for a man who was so dangerous?”

 

“I-I’m in the process of attaining legal residency,” Julie confessed, glancing toward the jury again uncertainly. “But… I wasn’t then, and… and he threatened to have me deported. I have a child whose father is a citizen, and… and I was afraid that I’d lose him if… I know I should have, but… I was afraid.” Her voice lowered, barely more than a whisper, as she looked toward Adam again. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

 

The defense attorney approached the stand next, eyeing Julie skeptically. “You are – how did you put it? ‘In the process of attaining legal residency’?”

 

“Yes.” Julie’s eyes were wary, but her tone was strong as she replied.

 

“I see. And… how did you come to be in said _process,_ Miss Guevara?”

 

Julie frowned, glancing uncertainly toward the prosecuting attorney. “Adam came to me and… and asked me to testify,” she admitted at last. “I was… I was scared I’d get deported, but… he offered to help me… gain the resources I needed. In exchange for my testimony, the state is assisting me in achieving my residency.”

 

“I see,” the defense attorney repeated, glancing pointedly toward the jury. “So… in exchange for the stories you’ve just told – stories of witnessing rather extreme, disturbing violence on a regular basis – not exactly working conditions I think most people could tolerate…”

 

“Objection, Your Honor…”

 

“Sustained.” The judge’s tone was severe. “Counsel, please keep your observations to yourself.”

 

“Yes, Your Honor, I apologize.” The attorney nodded to the judge before returning his attention to Julie. “In exchange for the stories you’ve told us today – you’re receiving your citizenship, instead of being deported as you likely would be if you hadn’t testified. Is that about the size of it?”

 

Julie hesitated, frowning. “I…”

 

“Yes or no, Miss Guevara?”

 

Finally, Julie admitted, frustration evident in her tone, “ _Yes_. But…”

 

“No further questions, Your Honor. That’s all I needed to know.”

 

“Anything further?” The judge addressed the prosecutor.

 

“No, Your Honor.”

 

“Very well. Witness may step down.”

 

Once Julie had made her way back to her seat, the judge turned her attention back toward the prosecutor.

 

“You may call your next witness.”

 

“Yes, Your Honor.”

 

She turned toward Adam, catching his eye, and Adam’s stomach dropped. He’d known it was coming, known he was next, but it still caused a deep-seated sense of panic to rise up in his throat, as she opened her mouth to call his name.

 

“The state calls Mr. Adam Lambert to the stand.”


	65. Chapter 65

Adam’s heart was pounding in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the courtroom around him. His legs didn’t feel strong enough to hold him up as he made his way slowly to the front of the room and stated his name before being sworn in. He sank down into the chair on the witness stand, his white-knuckles hands folded tightly in his lap in an attempt to conceal their shaking.

 

You can do this. You can do this. You’ve been over this a dozen times. You know exactly what to say, exactly how to get through this…

 

He swallowed hard, his mouth feeling painfully dry, his palms damp, as the prosecuting attorney rose and made her way toward him.

 

 _Just focus on the answers to the questions… focus on remembering exactly what happened and getting it across as clearly as possible._

 _Don’t focus on_ him. _Don’t look at him. Don’t give him the chance…_

Adam could feel Jordan’s piercing gaze intent on him, willing him to look up, to make eye contact, but he fought it for all he was worth, staring down at the golden wood grain of the stand in front of him, fighting the impulse that had been trained into him so thoroughly for so long – the impulse to _obey_ , even if the command wasn’t being spoken aloud.

 

“Adam, can you state for the court the nature of your relationship with the defendant?”

 

Just as the prosecutor asked her first question, Adam surrendered to the almost physical pull of Jordan’s presence, his eyes darting up in spite of his best efforts, toward the place where he knew Jordan was sitting – only to find his view of his ex-boyfriend blocked by the prosecuting attorney, who had positioned herself directly between Adam and Jordan, and near enough to the witness stand that Adam couldn’t see past her. She gave him a smile that was both knowing and encouraging, waiting expectantly for his response.

 

Adam let out a soft, shaky breath, looking down again and squaring his shoulders, trying to regain his focus.

 

“H-he’s my – he was my boyfriend,” he replied at last. “For a little over a year.”

 

“And how would you describe your relationship with the defendant, Adam?” the prosecutor went on. “Were the two of you happy together?”

 

“We were – at first,” Adam said, his voice halting and hesitant. “Jordan was – was really sweet, and – and loving, and… and he made me feel special. We were in love. And then – things changed.”

 

“What changed, specifically?”

 

Adam swallowed hard, staring down at his folded hands. “ _Jordan_ changed. He… started getting… possessive, and… and jealous. He was… mad at me all the time, and… and then he started getting… violent.”

 

“Violent,” the attorney repeated. “Can you elaborate, Adam? Violent how?”

 

Adam hesitated, the nausea in the pit of his stomach intensifying. He opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t seem to find the words, a vicious refrain repeating familiar words in a familiar voice in his mind, as he fought against the sense of impending panic that threatened to choke him.

 

 _Don’t tell, don’t tell, just keep your mouth shut, or you_ know _what’ll happen to you, you stupid slut…_

 

“Just… take your time.” The prosecutor’s voice was patient and soothing, and Adam tried to focus on it more than the threatening voice in his mind. “I realize this is difficult. Whenever you’re ready.”

 

Adam nodded, letting out a shaky breath and closing his eyes. “At first he’d just… push me or… or grab me, like… like he wasn’t really trying to hurt me. He just wanted to make his point. And… and it _didn’t_ hurt. Not – not really, so… so I didn’t think it was a big deal. And then – one night, he slapped me. And… and he was so sorry afterwards, and… and he had this explanation that… that seemed to make sense, and… I felt like… I thought…”

 

Adam’s throat seemed to close up, his face flushed with shame, and he shook his head, momentarily at a loss.

 

“Thought what?” the attorney persisted gently. “Go ahead, Adam.”

 

“I thought…” Adam’s words came out in a thick, tremulous whisper. “I thought it was my fault. He wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t… hadn’t pissed him off so much. I was always saying stupid things, and doing things that made him angry, and… and I just felt like…” He paused, swallowing hard and forcing himself to look up to meet her eyes. He pushed the words out against the invisible wall of fear and self-doubt that seemed to be just in front of him, trying to hold them in. “He made me feel like…” he amended with an effort, “… like I couldn’t do anything right. Like if I’d just… been a little more careful… a little smarter… a little less flirty when we were out… then… it wouldn’t have happened.”

 

The attorney was quiet for a moment, allowing his words to have their impact on the jury. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and sympathetic. “Do you still feel that way, Adam?”

 

Adam started to shake his head – then stopped, reconsidering. “Sometimes,” he admitted softly. “But… no. Not really. Not anymore. I know now that… nothing I could have said or done _deserved_ what he did to me. He didn’t have the right to hit me.”

 

“Was that the only time he hit you?”

 

“No.” Adam closed his eyes again. “After that first time, it just got… it got worse and worse,” he explained. “He was always sorry afterwards, and he always promised it wouldn’t happen again, but… but it always did.” He couldn’t stop the tears that filled his eyes with the dark memories pressing into his thoughts, his voice trembling dangerously as he struggled to keep telling his story. “He would hit me, or… or knock me down and kick me, or…” A bitter note crept into Adam’s voice, his mouth twisted in disgust as he continued. “… he used to _really_ like to choke me. I think he liked… proving that he _could_ kill me if he wanted to. One time he… he almost did. He choked me and… and he _said_ he was gonna kill me, and… I begged him to stop, but he… he wouldn’t… and he didn’t...until I… I passed out. I think… I think he scared himself that time, because… when I woke up, he was leaning over me and trying to wake me up and… h-he looked scared out of his mind. He – he didn’t hurt me for a while after that.”

 

“How long is a while?”

 

Adam hesitated, staring down at his hands, his face coloring with shame as he realized anew how pathetic all of this was making him seem.

 

“About… a week or two.”

 

Stupid. Why’d you let him do it, anyway? Why’d you stay, if it was so terrible? That’s what they’re all thinking right now… that’s why he’s going to get away with it, because you were a fucking pathetic idiot and stayed with him all that time…

 

“Was that the only time that you were afraid for your life with Jordan, Adam?” The prosecutor’s voice was gentle, cautious.

 

Adam shook his head, then remembered her instructions prior to the trial and cleared his throat, speaking aloud. “No. He choked me a lot, and… and he was always… always saying he was gonna kill me. If I – if I talked to someone he didn’t want me to, or – or if he thought I was – trying to leave. He said… he said if I ever tried to leave him, he’d – he’d kill me.”

 

“ _Did_ you ever try to leave, Adam? Before you finally did?”

 

“Once, I – I did leave, but…” Adam stopped, feeling a sick wave of revulsion as he remembered that time, so long ago, when he would have been free – would have been safe, if he hadn’t chosen to walk right back into Jordan’s arms. “… he said he was sorry, and… and that was… right after the first time he choked me, so… I didn’t… I didn’t know…”

 

His words trailed off, and he struggled to control the faltering hitch in his breath, the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

 

“Didn’t know what?”

 

Adam’s voice was halting, barely over a whisper, when he finally managed to reply. “H-how bad it would get.” He swallowed hard, shaking his head slowly in self-directed disgust. “I – I went back to him. I – I wish I hadn’t. Every moment after that I wished I hadn’t, but – but by then it was too late.”

 

“What do you mean, it was too late?” the prosecutor pressed. “What happened after that?”

 

“He – he changed the security codes and didn’t give them to me. He – made sure he went with me everywhere I went, and – and that there wasn’t any chance for me to… to leave him. I still – I tried, once, but – but he caught me, and – and that’s when he – he took my phone.”

 

Adam was crying openly by that point, silent tears streaking his face as he forced out the rest of the story in a rush, trying to get it all out before he lost control too much to do so.

 

“He wouldn’t let me call my family – my friends – anyone. He – he made me sign over all of my assets to him. Bank accounts, the house, all of it. Eventually he gave me my phone back, once he was – was sure I wouldn’t – try to leave again, but – but after that, he – he didn’t let me leave the house without him again. I was – I was so scared of him. So scared to do anything to piss him off, that – that when I ran into Kris, I almost didn’t talk to him at all. I tried to avoid him, but – but he just wouldn’t stay away, and – and he kept pushing until he finally found out what was going on, and – and that was it. He – he helped me get out.”

 

“All right. Thank you, Adam, for telling your story. Now, I have a few more questions for you, and – this is probably going to be difficult, but – I’m going to show you some pictures that have already been presented as evidence – pictures from the medical examination you received immediately after leaving the defendant – and I want you to tell the jury how the injuries in each picture came to be. All right?”

 

Adam nodded, but despite the preparation they’d gone through in her office the week before, his stomach lurched dangerously at the very thought of _looking_ at those pictures, much less detailing the specific memories they evoked.

 

 _I can’t do this… God, I can’t_ do _this…_

 

He scanned the crowd, feeling on the verge of panic, desperate to make contact with Kris, to somehow gain some reassurance from his presence – but in order to keep him from seeing Jordan, the prosecutor was blocking Adam’s view of Kris as well. His heart was racing, his stomach churning, but Adam forced himself to look up and focus on the picture that had just been held up for the jury’s perusal, and was now being held up in front of him.

 

It was easy, relatively speaking – a picture of the dark bruises that had circled his neck almost constantly during the latter part of his relationship with Jordan – and as Adam had already talked about the choking, it wasn’t so very difficult to connect the picture with the stories he’d already told.

 

The next picture was a little more difficult.

 

“That’s – that’s from when he – he slammed my hand in the drawer of my vanity table. He – he smashed it so hard that – that several bones were actually broken. Then he – for a day or so after that, he…” Adam swallowed hard, taking a moment to compose himself before concluding, “… he’d use that hand to – to hurt me when he wanted to – to punish me. He’d – squeeze it, or – or knock it into something – because he knew it’d hurt worse than just h-hitting me.”

 

The low murmur of hushed horror that rose from the jury box made Adam feel both encouraged and humiliated at the same time. He couldn’t look up as he waited for the next picture.

 

 _They all know now. You have no secrets left. And there’s no chance in hell that all twelve of those people are going to walk out of here and keep what they’ve seen private. When this is over, everyone in the world is going to know what he did – what you let him do. You’re going to be so ashamed – you_ deserve _to be ashamed…_

 

“This one?”

 

The attorney moved to stand in front of him again, and Adam looked up, momentarily distracted from his thoughts. He immediately wished he hadn’t looked, when faced with a large, humiliatingly close-up shot of his own pale, freckled thighs, marred by several tiny, dark, circular scars – the cigarette burns Jordan had left when he’d taken his pleasure out of tying Adam down and seeing how much pain he could inflict…

 

“I’m sorry… I _can’t_ …”

 

Adam gasped, barely managing to get the words out before he was up and out of his seat. He hurriedly, clumsily made his way down the aisle and out of the courtroom, blindly seeking the restroom he’d seen on their way in that morning. He was vaguely aware of Kris’s voice, somewhere behind him and calling out his name, as the door closed behind him. He barely made it to the toilet, didn’t manage to get the stall door locked at all, before he was on his knees, heaving up the remains of the coffee that was all he’d had that morning.

 

 _Disgusting… it’s disgusting what he did to you… and you’re disgusting for letting him…_

 _And now, the whole world knows it._


	66. Chapter 66

“Adam! Adam, wait a second!”  
   
Kris burst into the restroom only a moment or two after Adam had heaved up his meager breakfast into the toilet. His voice echoed in the small room – too loud and intrusive, despite the clear concern it held. Adam straightened up a little, feeling shaky and weak, and snatched a handful of toilet tissue from the dispenser beside him, quickly swiping it across his mouth.  
   
“Go away,” he rasped, grimacing both at the bitter taste that filled his mouth, and the hoarse, weak sound of his own voice, echoing off the walls of the metal stall around him.  
   
For a moment there was no sound except the slow, high squeak of the restroom door swinging shut, and Adam thought that Kris might have complied with his request. However, the soft sound of someone else’s breathing – the click against the tile as Kris shifted on his feet, uncertain and hesitant – made Adam’s heart sink with the realization that it wasn’t going to be so easy to get rid of his protective, overly concerned – _smothering, controlling_ – boyfriend.  
   
“No.” In direct contrast to Adam’s own voice, Kris’s words were quiet, but strong – and Adam found his trembling hands clenching around the edge of the toilet seat he was using to support himself.  
   
“No, Adam. I’m not going to just leave you alone here, not when you’re this upset…”  
   
“I said _go away_ ,” Adam insisted, raising his voice in helpless frustration. “Just leave. I’ll be _fine_ ; I’ll be back in a minute.”  
   
Adam flinched at the familiar warmth of Kris’s hand on his back, burying his face in his free arm as he felt Kris settle onto his knees behind him. Thankfully, there wasn’t quite room enough for him to get into the stall with Adam; but he still felt too close, the pressure of his concern closing in on Adam and adding to the weight of the fear and confusion he was already wrestling with.  
   
“No,” Adam whispered, shaking his head. “Don’t, Kris…”  
   
“I’m not gonna leave you,” Kris replied. “Adam, don’t do this… don’t shut me—”  
   
“I said _no_!” Adam snapped, raising his head and turning a bit in the stall, jerking away from Kris’s touch. He raised his eyes to glare fiercely back at his stunned boyfriend, who was staring down at him with hurt and shock – and it felt _good_ to see it there, felt somehow satisfying to be able to make him back down and just _stop touching_ him. “No, Kris,” Adam repeated, his voice sounding and feeling stronger now as he braced himself on the toilet beside him and lifted himself up on shaky legs. “Or don’t _you_ know what that word means, either?”  
   
Kris flinched violently at those words, his jaw dropping as he shook his head in horror. “Adam,” he whispered. “I – I – _no_ …”  
   
Suddenly, the hurt on Kris’s face was too much. Adam knew he’d gone just too far, and his satisfaction was replaced with a sick feeling. He lowered his gaze, staring down at his folded arms across his chest, his jaw locked with the effort to hold back the instinctive desire to back down, to apologize, to allow Kris to hold him and comfort him and do whatever the fuck he wanted.  
   
 _No… not this time…  _

“Just go,” he whispered, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “I’ll be _fine_. I don’t – I don’t need you to hold my hand so I can find my way back in. I’ll be there in a minute, just – I just need a minute.”  
   
When Adam chanced a glance up into Kris’s eyes, they were large and wet with tears – so he looked away again, swallowing hard. After a long, tense moment, Kris finally broke the silence.  
   
“Okay. What – whatever you need, Adam.”  
   
He turned and walked back toward the door, opening it to leave, but then lingering there in the doorway for a moment. When he turned back, Adam braced himself for another battle – but there was a quiet admiration mingled with the sadness in Kris’s voice.  
   
“When you come back – bring _this_ Adam.”  
   
Adam frowned, looking up at Kris in confusion.  
   
Kris smiled softly at his expression, looking him up and down as if with new eyes before meeting his gaze again.  
   
“You know. The take no prisoners, supremely confident in his own skin, ‘fuck you and the horse you rode in on if you think you’re gonna tell me what to do’ Adam Lambert I met all those years ago. I knew he was still in there.”  
   
Adam felt his eyes well with tears at the gentle encouragement, and he opened his mouth to reply, though he wasn’t quite sure what he intended to say. Before he could speak, however, the door quietly closed behind Kris, and he found himself alone – just as he had requested.  
   
****************************************

************  
   
It took all the strength Kris possessed to make himself walk out that door and leave Adam alone, visibly shaken and scared, but fiercely defiant and assertive in a way that Kris had rarely seen him lately.  
   
 _I have to give him what he needs…_  
   
Kris closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself and fighting against the desperate desire to turn around and go back, to not leave Adam’s side until he knew that he was okay.  
   
But – that wasn’t what Adam wanted from him.  
   
 _I have to_ trust _that he_ knows _what he needs…_  
   
Kris took his seat next to Leila, avoiding eye contact with the multitude of curious onlookers focused on him as he entered, clearly expecting some kind of explanation or indication of when Adam would be returning. He felt his face flush self-consciously, painfully aware of the fact that he had no new information to give them – that by Adam’s choice, he knew no more about what was going through his boyfriend’s head than this room full of strangers.  
   
Leila Lambert reached out to touch Kris’s hand, and he reluctantly met her anxious, questioning gaze. One look at him seemed to be all it took to get her to rise from her seat, as if to make her way after Adam herself – but Kris caught her hand, gently but firmly, and she looked down at him again, her gaze surprised and severe.  
   
“Give him a minute,” he said hoarsely, staring down at their hands. “He said he just – he needs a minute. Please.”  
   
Leila hesitated, and Kris knew that she was fighting the pull of her own instincts to go after her son, to nurture and protect him – but in the end, she sat back down, unhappily, beside Kris.  
   
The prosecuting attorney approached them, and Kris braced himself, looking up at her with a forced, tight smile that he hoped was at least a little reassuring. He opened his mouth to explain what little he knew – but before she could even reach him, the back door of the courtroom swung open, and Adam reentered.  
   
A collective hush fell over the room as he made his way slowly up the aisle, and the prosecuting attorney hurried back to her station. She met Adam’s eyes briefly, and after receiving a tiny nod in confirmation, she turned back toward the front of the room.  
   
“Your Honor, I’d like to recall the witness, Mr. Adam Lambert, to the stand, please.”  
   
“Of course. Mr. Lambert, are you ready to take the stand again?” The judge’s tone was firm and formal, but not without sympathy.  
   
“Y-yes, Your Honor,” Adam replied, his voice soft but clear as he approached the stand and took his seat again.  
   
Kris watched him closely as the prosecutor approached the stand again, that same damned picture in her hands. Adam was tense, visibly shaking, and his eyes were red and puffy – evidence of the tears he’d wiped away, but still couldn’t quite hide. Still, he made eye contact with the prosecutor as he answered her questions, his words level and surprisingly strong as he described the degradation and brutality Jordan had inflicted upon him.  
   
Beside him, Leila broke down as he described being tied down to the bed he’d shared with his abuser – begging to be released, to not be hurt, and still being tortured for no other purpose than the pleasure of his sadistic boyfriend. Kris felt sick, and fought off his own desire to run for the restroom as he listened to the story that was so much more than he’d ever wanted to hear _once_ , let alone a second time. Instead of fleeing, however, he stayed in his seat and squeezed Leila’s hand gently, doing his best to support her – because as hard as this was for him, he knew it had to be so much harder for her.  
   
The prosecuting attorney asked a few more questions before finally taking her seat again, but Kris braced himself for the worst – because he knew that it was certainly yet to come.  
   
The prosecutor had tried to be gentle and compassionate for Adam’s situation, and her questioning had still made him fall apart. Jordan’s attorney would have no reason for such consideration. In fact, his goal would almost certainly be to tear away every shred of credibility from Adam’s testimony that he possibly could.  
   
“So, Mr. Lambert,” the attorney began, his voice cool and assessing, “it’s your testimony that for over a year, you were beaten – intimidated – even raped, if I understand the latter portion of your testimony correctly – by my client. Is that correct?”  
   
Adam flinched slightly at the use of the word that he’d avoided, even as he’d detailed the painful story, but he nodded, drawing in a shaky breath.  
   
“Yes,” he confirmed quietly. “Yes, that’s correct.”  
   
“And you expect the court to believe that in all of that time – all of the various public events that you attended – all of your various performances in front of thousands of adoring fans – there wasn’t ever a _single moment_ when you had the chance to tell _someone_ what was happening to you?”  
   
“Objection, badgering the witness, Your Honor,” the prosecutor protested, rising to her feet.  
   
“Withdrawn,” the attorney said with a smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. “Never mind.”  
   
Kris seethed quietly in his seat, his anger fueled by the look of frustration on Adam’s face – his clear desire to answer the question and clear up the misunderstanding it could have created for the jury. But he wouldn’t have that chance now. The defense attorney had planted the doubts he’d wanted to plant, and while the question could be stricken from the record, it couldn’t be stricken from the minds of the jury.  
   
“So, for whatever reason – it was only after Mr. Allen came back into your life that you finally decided that you were no longer too afraid to speak up, is that right?”  
   
The condescension in the man’s voice made Kris clench his fist at his side, and he fought back the protest that rose to his own lips, fighting not to give in to his protective anger and do anything that would make this any worse for Adam.  
   
“No, that’s not right,” Adam answered, his voice trembling slightly, but still strong, his gaze locked onto the wooden panel in front of him. “I _was_ too afraid. I – I lied to the police that night. I didn’t want to say anything, because – because I was still so afraid that Jordan would be able to get to me. That he’d – he’d kill me if I said anything. It took Kris like – a week to talk me into making any kind of statement at all, and even longer to go to the police.”  
   
“A week. I see.” The attorney nodded, pausing for effect before rounding on Adam and demanding, his eyes narrowed and his tone sharp and accusing, “How long did it take you to tell Mr. Allen that Mr. Brenner had legal control of your assets?”  
   
Adam flinched slightly, and Kris saw the prosecuting attorney open her mouth as if to protest – and then shut it again, frustration clear on her face, because she really didn’t have any valid grounds for objection.  
   
“A few days,” Adam admitted. “But that was only because Kris had already _seen_ what he did to me, that first night after Jordan was arrested. He’d seen the bruises and everything, and he knew what he was doing to me…”  
   
“Oh, _Kris_ had already seen what was done to you. And by that, you’re referring to the injuries in the pictures the jury just saw?” The attorney’s voice was deceptively mild, and there was a knowing look in his eyes that made Kris feel sick with rage.  
   
Adam’s face flushed with shame, and he looked down again, shaking his head. “I – I didn’t mean – he didn’t see _all_ of it…”  
   
“So _one night_ after your partner of more than a year is arrested, you’re _spending the night_ at Mr. Allen’s house, and he’s seen the extent of your injuries and you’re pouring out the details of what was allegedly done to you, when in the whole year prior, you weren’t able to bring yourself to tell a single soul? Why is that, Mr. Lambert?”  
   
“Because… because I trusted Kris,” Adam tried to explain, but Kris could hear the fear and desperation creeping into his voice, and it tore at his heart, making him long to ease the pain this man was inflicting. “He was my friend before – before we were ever anything more than that…”  
   
“Was he your friend while you were dating Mr. Brenner?”  
   
Adam frowned, clearly caught off guard by the question. “Yes? I guess? I mean – Jordan didn’t let me talk to anyone, but – but we never stopped being friends…”  
   
“I see. And at what point did you and your _friend_ decide to try and undo your rather reckless decision to sign over your assets to your boyfriend? Before or after you started sleeping together?”  
   
“ _Objection_!” The prosecutor’s voice was filled with outrage.  
   
“Sustained.” The judge gave the defense attorney a severe look. “Counsel, I’d advise you to tread cautiously…”  
   
“Yes, Your Honor, of course. I withdraw the question.” The man gave the judge an apologetic smile before turning cold eyes back on Adam. “I have no further questions…”  
   
The judge’s lips were pursed with what Kris thought looked like disapproval, but her tone was level and calm as she addressed Adam. “Witness may step-”  
   
“Wait!” Adam protested, turning anxious eyes toward the judge, who gave him a skeptical look. “Your Honor, please – can I please say something?”  
   
The judge considered for a moment before nodding cautiously. “Go ahead.”  
   
Adam took a deep breath, meeting Kris’s eyes for just a moment before looking toward the jury. He couldn’t seem to maintain eye contact with anyone for long, his gaze continually drifting back down to the ledge in front of him, as he spoke in a halting, tentative voice.  
   
“I – I’ll admit, I – I wouldn’t have said anything to anyone about – about what Jordan was doing to me – if it hadn’t been for Kris. But – but it isn’t about the money. It was never about the money. I just – I was too scared to say anything, and – and I was still scared even after I went to stay with Kris, but – but…”  
   
He paused, looking up at Kris again, and Kris’s heart ached with the depth of love and gratitude mingled with the pain in Adam’s eyes.  
   
“… Kris helped me to – to feel safe again. He helped me to see that – that I didn’t have to live like that. That – things could be better. That – that wasn’t who I was. He helped me to remember – who I used to be, before – before Jordan. I only spoke up after I ran into Kris again, because – Kris is the one who made me see that I _could_ speak up.”  
   
Adam fell silent for a long moment, staring down at the podium, and when he looked up, his face was streaked with tears. “For so long,” he continued, shaking his head slowly, “for so long, I lived in – in _terror_ of – of what Jordan could do to me. I was so sure that if I said anything – if I tried to ask for help again – he’d only make me suffer more. He had me convinced that he’d _kill_ me if I tried to get away, so – so I didn’t.”  
   
Adam shrugged, letting out a pained little laugh, as if at his own foolishness, and it hurt Kris’s heart to see it. He wanted nothing more than to hold Adam close and reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, none of it – that he’d never deserved it – all of the things he’d said so many times, and would say so many times again, because Adam never seemed to believe it – but Adam wasn’t finished yet.  
   
“But – Kris helped me to realize – the reason Jordan was trying so hard to keep me – scared, and – and submissive – and _quiet_ – was because he knew what would happen if I ever _wasn’t.”_ Adam’s voice was stronger now, as he looked up at the jury again. “My silence was – was the thing that gave him power over me, and – and as long as he had me convinced not to speak up – he had me right where he wanted me.”  
   
Kris’s stomach lurched as he saw Adam’s gave suddenly go to Jordan, and his heart sank with fear. He sat forward in his seat, his hand gripping the back of the seat in front of him, his lips parted in wordless protest of what he just _knew_ was going to happen next.  
   
 _Don’t look at him, Adam, no, don’t_ do _this, don’t give him the chance…_  
   
“You don’t have me anymore.”  
   
Adam’s voice was strong, and it shot down Kris’s spine with a chill at the sheer power and conviction of his words.  
   
“I’m taking myself back,” Adam continued, fresh tears streaking his face, his eyes blazing with fury and defiance as he stared down his abuser, “right now. You don’t hold any power over me. You can try to threaten me with a single look, l-like you’re doing right now…”  
   
Jordan abruptly looked away, glancing with a trapped expression toward the jury that was now looking toward him in suspicion, and it made Kris want to cheer – but Adam didn’t look away from Jordan.  
   
“You can try to scare me into silence – but it won’t work. Not anymore. Everyone knows what you did now. You – you threatened me, and beat me, and – and tortured me, and raped me, and – and you made me feel like I – like I _deserved_ it all. Like I was – less than human. Like – like you _owned_ me. But – you don’t. And you will never do any of those things to me again – because I’ve remembered who I am, now.”  
   
Adam straightened slightly, glaring at Jordan, his voice quiet but bold and defiant. “I’m Adam fucking Lambert – and nobody owns me but _me_.”


	67. Chapter 67

Kris tried to contain the triumph he felt at Adam’s emotional but victorious announcement, as the courtroom erupted in a muted wave of excited reaction. It took the judge a few moments to regain full control of the room, after which she offered a half-hearted reproof to Adam, advising him to watch his language in her courtroom.

 

“Yes, Your Honor,” Adam agreed automatically – but his fiercely defiant gaze never left Jordan’s face.

 

For his part, Jordan looked to be on the verge of implosion. His fist was tightly clenched on the table in front of him, his jaw set with rage. Kris was momentarily worried, because the look in his eyes was _murderous_. Kris knew that if that look had been aimed at him, he’d likely have been terrified – and he hadn’t spent nearly a year being systematically tortured and terrorized by the man.

 

Fortunately, Adam did not appear to be affected by it the slightest.

 

The jury, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.

 

Kris felt a rush of satisfaction as he took in the jury’s visibly emotional reaction to what was happening. Two of them – an older woman who looked like somebody’s grandmother, and a girl who looked barely old enough to serve jury duty – were in tears. Several others were staring at Jordan with varying degrees of horror, disgust, and dawning recognition in their eyes.

 

If there had been any doubt as to the nature of the man that was Jordan Brenner, it had just been erased in their minds – by Adam’s desperate attempt to throw off his control once and for all, but even more so by Jordan’s reaction of visible rage to that attempt.

 

Jordan’s attorney tried to regain control of the situation, but it was irreparably lost – as was his case, Kris was increasingly certain.

 

Anything else the man might have brought up after that, anything that might have served to cast suspicion on Adam or make him look bad, was met by disgusted looks from the jury at his callous, accusatory manner. After just a couple more basically useless questions, the defense attorney gave up, blustering out a frustrated, “No further questions,” and returning to his seat, all but throwing down his notes as he sat down next to Jordan. Jordan immediately leaned in, speaking in a low, intense tone to his counsel, who responded in a whisper with obvious agitation.

 

Kris barely noticed this in the periphery of his vision.

 

He couldn’t take his eyes off Adam – his brave, strong, breathtaking Adam, fear and defiance mingled on his face as he faced down his nightmare, and came out victorious.

 

The moment the judge told Adam that he could leave the stand, he rose to his feet, making his way down the aisle on legs that barely shook. Kris could only tell because he was hyper-aware of every detail of Adam’s carriage and demeanor. He half-rose from his seat as Adam approached the place where Kris and Leila were sitting, ready to take Adam into his arms, to tell him how proud of him he was, how brave and amazing and awe-inspiring he was – but Adam didn’t stop at his seat.

 

He kept walking, his pace swifter as he went, until he reached the back doors of the courtroom, pushing one of them open and disappearing out into the hallway beyond it.

 

Kris and Leila exchanged a glance of worried confusion before they both rose and followed after him.

 

They found him, just as he nearly collapsed onto a bench against the wall, clutching at the edge of it with one white-knuckled hand, covering his mouth with the other. He was visibly trembling, staring wide-eyed into nothing, completely overwhelmed – as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just done.

 

Kris’s pace slowed as he approached the bench, slowly sitting down next to Adam and sliding a cautious arm around his shoulders, as Leila crouched in front of her son, trying to get a better look at his face.

 

“Adam? Sweetie, are you all right?” she asked, her voice hushed and gentle.

 

Adam nodded absently, still not quite seeing her. Kris bit his lip, his hand on Adam’s arm squeezing gently, though he wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do – wasn’t sure if he shouldn’t just let go completely. Things were so tenuous between them at the moment, he wasn’t sure whether or not the touch would be welcome – but Adam turned into his embrace, resting his forehead against Kris’s shoulder.

 

Relief swept through him, and Kris closed his eyes against the hot tears that streaked his face, his throat constricted and aching as he put his arms around Adam and held him tightly, pressing a tender kiss against his brow.

 

“You did it, baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and soft with awe. “You did it.”

 

***************************************

 

“Did you see them?” Kris continued, though his words sounded muffled and far away. Adam barely registered them, his heart pounding in his ears, trying to process the reality of what had just happened. “Half the jury was openly _sobbing_ , Adam. You did it. He doesn’t stand a chance now, baby, you’ve put him away _for good_ …”

 

Adam just clung to Kris, taking comfort from his closeness, from the simple _reality_ of contact, grounding him and drawing him back, reassuring him that it had actually just _happened._

 

 _You did it, all right. You just looked into Jordan’s eyes and stood up to him,_ finally.

 

As always, that familiar warning voice in the back of Adam’s mind was frantically insisting that he had to find a way to undo it, had to do something to calm Jordan’s anger before he could strike out in retaliation.

 

 _You can’t just talk to him that way. He’ll_ kill _you – he always said he would, and he wants to now. You could see it in his eyes…_

 

 _You have to fix it,_ fix it, _before someone gets hurt…_

 

But for once, the voice was soft and weak, almost completely drowned out by an overwhelming sense of relief, and a feeling that Adam had almost completely forgotten in the last year – _peace._

 

 _You told him off, once and for all – and the world didn’t fall apart. And he’s not coming after you – because he_ can’t. _He’s in police custody, in chains, under guard, and not able to come near you – and if Kris is right, after today, he won’t ever be able to come near you again…_

 

 _And_ you _did that._ You _made that happen._

 

“You did it,” Kris whispered tearfully against his ear, as if echoing Adam’s thoughts. “And I am _so proud_ of you, Adam. You have _no idea_ how amazing you are…”

 

Adam didn’t respond, didn’t lift his head from Kris’s shoulder or move at all. He just wanted to sit there and _breathe_ for a moment, in the shelter of Kris’s arms, just taking comfort in the security of that embrace, and allowing himself to process what had just happened.

 

He gradually became aware of movement and voices around them, and reluctantly raised his head to see that the courtroom doors had opened, and people were walking down the hallway – some toward the exits, or toward the restrooms, or toward some other area of the courthouse – and all of them trying very hard to pretend like they weren’t trying to sneak a look at him as they passed.

 

He heard the rhythmic click of purposeful heels making their way toward them, and looked up to see the prosecutor heading toward them, a bright smile on her face. Adam pulled himself up straight, out of Kris’s arms, though he allowed Kris to take his hand and hold onto it – apparently needing a little bit of reassurance himself, Adam guessed from the tight grip around his fingers.

 

“The judge called a brief recess, but she wants to hear our closing arguments immediately after that,” the prosecutor explained without preamble. “After that, she’ll send the jury to deliberate on the verdict. And if the looks on their faces right now are anything to go by, I don’t think they’ll take very long to decide.”

 

She sat down on the bench on the other side of Kris, taking the last remaining spot, and leaned across him a little, studying Adam’s face, her smile slightly fading.

 

“Are you all right?” she asked gently. “Because – you were amazing in there, I hope you know.”

 

Adam nodded, finding returning her smile surprisingly easy. His eyes were dry, and he felt an almost surreal sense of calm, now that this was all so close to being over. He’d done all that he could do – and it seemed that it was going to be enough. He knew that he should feel elated, or terrified, or excited, or _something_ besides the vague numbness that had stolen over him.

 

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “That – felt good.”

 

It might have been more convincing if there’d been a trace of any emotion in his voice.

 

Kris laughed a little, nervously, squeezing his hand. “I think he’s a little bit in shock right now,” he explained ruefully. “This is all so – so…”

 

Kris just shook his head, at a loss, his statement going unfinished, and Adam abruptly realized that that was how he felt – suspended at the edge of the end, and waiting for the conclusion that couldn’t come yet. He wanted to be happy about this presumed victory – but he’d learned long ago not to count on any blessing until it was firmly in his grasp.

 

 _Once we hear the verdict,_ he told himself. _Once the jury says he’s guilty, and sends him away to prison –_ then _I’ll be able to be happy about it. Then it’ll finally be over…_

 

 

**************************************************

 

There was nothing surprising in the closing arguments, which were exactly what Kris had expected to hear, on both sides – and if Jordan’s attorney spoke with almost nonexistent passion, a defeated tone in his voice already, well – that wasn’t really surprising, either, given how thoroughly Adam had destroyed any chance Jordan might have had of winning.

 

The judge sent the jury away to deliberate, dismissed the proceedings for the day, and Kris, Adam, and Leila went home – with nothing directly ahead of them but what felt like endless hours of waiting.

 

Adam was strangely distant, unusually still and quiet, but when Kris suggested that he get some rest, Adam said he didn’t feel like sleeping. Kris thought about asking him where his mind was, pressing for Adam to let him in to whatever complex, troubled thoughts had him so preoccupied – but Adam’s harsh, accusing words in the restroom still echoed in his mind.

 

… _or don’t_ you _know what “no” means, either?_

 

Kris felt sick at the thought of Adam’s comparing him to Jordan in any way, and the last thing he wanted to do was to push when Adam clearly wanted his space. He wanted Adam to know that he respected his choices, respected his autonomy, and didn’t want to control him the way he’d been controlled in his last relationship. So, he kept his silence, and kept his distance, but stayed in the same room – just close enough for Adam to know that if he _did_ want to talk, Kris was there.

 

But Adam _didn’t_ talk – barely said two words at all until the phone rang, less than three hours after they’d left the courthouse.

 

Leila answered the phone, and Kris watched her face closely, his heart pounding as he wondered whether it was the call they’d been waiting for. She hung up the phone a minute later, her dark eyes large and solemn.

 

“They’ve reached a verdict,” she informed them in a terse, no-nonsense tone that was a mostly successful attempt to cover the nerves she was feeling, already reaching for her jacket off the back of the sofa where she’d tossed it. “Come on. Let’s go.”


	68. Chapter 68

Adam felt sick as he took his seat in the courtroom amidst the curious spectators filing in, a low murmur of hushed expectancy filling the room as they waited for the judge to arrive. He settled in his seat, grateful for the simple support beneath him, as he felt too shaky to stand at the moment. A cold sweat coated his brow, his palms damp and trembling as he scanned the room, desperately trying to keep his attention from the one spot near the front of his room that he didn’t want to be caught looking.

 

 _They know he did it,_ he reminded himself firmly. _They’re on your side now. The evidence, your testimony – everything makes it perfectly clear that he’s guilty. They know, and there’s no way they’re going to let him get away with it this time._

 _Except people have_ known _for as long as he’s been doing it – and no one’s stopped him yet._

 

That anger, that disgust he’d seen on the jurors’ faces after his testimony – Adam had seen that look before, more than once. The problem was, it was always overpowered by the fear that Jordan managed to inspire in almost everyone who crossed his path.

 

 _What if he got to them?_ Adam wondered uneasily, swallowing to moisten his dry throat, staring down at his trembling hands in order to keep his eyes from drifting toward Jordan again. _All he’d need is one. Just one person who’s willing to say they’re not convinced – and it’s a mistrial – and he’s free to go._

 _And free to come after me again._

 

The excited, anticipatory chatter that filled the room died away to a low hum as the judge entered the room at last, and the bailiff called out, “All rise.”

 

Adam barely felt strong enough to comply.

 

“Court is now in session,” the judge announced. “Be seated.”

 

As the jury filed in, Adam’s heart raced with apprehension, his stomach churning dangerously as Kris’s hand slipped into his, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze. Adam was grateful for the grounding contact, the reminder that whatever the decision was going to be – he wasn’t going to be facing it alone.

 

“Madame Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict?”

 

The well-dressed, middle-aged woman who had been chosen as the jury’s spokesperson rose to her feet, nodding firmly. “We have, Your Honor.”

 

Kris’s hand jerked slightly around Adam’s, and Adam felt a slight, guarded feeling of relief.

 

 _No mistrial, then – and he couldn’t have gotten to_ all _of them, could he?_

 

“On the charge of domestic assault and battery in the first degree, we find the defendant – _guilty_.”

 

An excited murmur rose amongst the observers, and the judge tapped her gavel on the podium before her, bringing the room back to order. Adam felt strangely numb, his mind barely able to process what he’d just heard. It was exactly what he’d hoped to hear in this moment – but it hardly felt real.

 

“On the charge of attempted manslaughter with special circumstances, we find the defendant – _guilty_.”

 

There were other charges – witness tampering, terroristic threatening, multiple counts of several specific domestic violence charges – but the first two were the ones that carried the highest sentences – the ones that would keep Jordan in prison, keep him away from Adam for the rest of their lives.

 

“The verdict is so noted,” the judge stated when the long list of charges had been completed. “Court will recess for one hour, during which time I will consider the information we’ve received during these proceedings, as well as the recommendation of the jury, and then deliver my sentence. We will reconvene here at 3:00pm. Court is adjourned.”

 

“You did it,” Kris exulted beside Adam, turning in his seat to embrace him in a reaction of impulsive delight. “You did it, baby! He’s going away for a long, long time!”

 

Adam wished he could feel the relief, the certainty of triumph that was so obvious on Kris’s face – but he didn’t.

 

 _Once the sentence is given,_ he told himself. _Once I know how long he’ll be gone – then I’ll be able to feel like it’s really, finally over._

 _Then I’ll be able to be happy again._

 

Adam, Kris, and Leila passed the time before the sentencing at a little coffee shop across the street from the courthouse. The extra security Kris had hired for the day managed to keep the paparazzi outside the coffee shop, and after a few minutes, it was a little easier to ignore the flashing of the cameras and the staring eyes outside the shop.

 

They were no sooner seated than Kris announced that he was starving. He hadn’t been able to eat all day, too nervous with anticipation of the verdict, but now he was feeling so much better. He polished off a ham croissant and two muffins – while Adam struggled just to finish half of the herbal tea he’d ordered.

 

“Sweetie, smile,” Leila encouraged him, gently squeezing his arm where it rested on the table, his fingers idly sliding up and down the warm, smooth handle of his steaming mug. “It’s over.”

 

“Yeah,” Adam half-heartedly agreed with a slow, guarded nod. “Almost.”

 

***************************************

 

“I’ve presided over a number of domestic violence cases in my time on this bench. It’s always disturbing to see the levels of obsession and abusive behavior that a person can sink to, in order to attempt to keep someone as their own – not as a partner or as an equal, but as a possession to be owned or controlled – all in the name of their own twisted, false version of love.”

 

The judge turned her sharp gaze on Jordan, her disgust clear on her face and in her tone.

 

“Mr. Brenner, I am not convinced that you have ever truly loved anyone but yourself. In as long as I’ve held this position, I’ve never seen a case of such indifferent brutality – such calculated, ruthless manipulation – such vicious psychological and physical violence. Based on the evidence that’s been presented to this court, I have little doubt that, had you been allowed to continue the path of actions you’ve chosen to this point, we would have eventually been here on far more serious charges – with devastating effect on Mr. Lambert and his loved ones.”

 

Adam shivered at her barely veiled words.

 

He was absolutely certain that she was right.

 

“While I am grateful and relieved that we’ve managed to avert that fatal course of events before they could come to pass,” the judge continued, “I only regret that I’m unable to hand down a more severe sentence. As it is, I am imposing the maximum sentence allowable by law for the crimes of which you’ve been convicted.”

 

“ _Yes_!” Kris whispered beside Adam, bringing his clenched fist down on his knee in repressed triumph.

 

The judge listed each of the charges of which Jordan had been found guilty, with the individual sentence for each.

 

Adam lost count somewhere around forty years.

 

Jordan would not be eligible for parole until he’d served at least twenty of them.

 

“Like anyone’s going to grant him parole,” Kris scoffed quietly, a beaming smile on his face. “Not with the circumstances of this case. He doesn’t stand a chance…”

 

Kris kept talking for a little while longer, his excitement and elation overflowing beyond his own control, but Adam didn’t really register much of what he said after that. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree. After all, on an objective level, he knew how very damning his testimony, and the extensive medical evidence and witness testimony, had been. Despite the possibility that the judge had been required to leave him, there was very little chance of Jordan’s ever actually _being_ paroled.

 

Adam knew he should feel happier.

 

Somehow, it was all he could do to pretend to feel _anything_ – to force a weak, distracted smile and allow Kris and his mom to hug him and share their own thrilled reactions. He still felt numb, the words the judge had spoken – _maximum sentence – forty years – worst case ever_ – echoing in his mind, as his brain struggled to catch up and process what they actually _meant_ , for _him_.

 

It felt like someone else’s life that was being so irrevocably changed by the judge’s decision – someone else who was suddenly free, and safe, and having the burden of years of terror lifted from his shoulders.

 

Because _Adam_ certainly wasn’t feeling it.

 

 _And – that can’t be normal. Which means… Jordan must have fucked me up worse than I thought. I’m – I’m_ not _normal anymore – not okay. I might never be okay again…_

He looked down into Kris’s dark eyes, warm and shining with tears of relief and joy and such a powerful _love_ that Adam almost couldn’t stand it – and he had to look away, overwhelmed by a sudden rush of guilt. For all his mistakes over the past few weeks – for all the resentments and frustration that had been steadily building within Adam because Kris didn’t seem to understand what he needed, and Adam hadn’t yet had the courage to just _tell_ him – Adam knew one thing beyond any trace of doubt.

 

 _Kris loves me – with everything in him, he_ loves _me._

 

Adam thought of the decision he’d made just in the past couple of days – the decision about what to do after the trial; and while he was still convinced – more than ever, in fact – that it was the right choice, for both of them, he knew that he couldn’t do it like he’d planned.

 

 _Kris has put his whole life on hold for me for the past two months. No, he didn’t do everything right – didn’t always get what I needed – but how could he, when_ I _didn’t even get it most of the time? No matter what mistakes he’s made, Kris loves me, and he’s proven it._

 

 _And – he deserves better than this._

 

*****************************************

 

By the time they got home, although he’d tried hard to hold onto it, Kris found his good mood fading in the face of Adam’s quiet, distant demeanor – that same maddening, scary, confusing behavior that had become so incredibly frustrating as the trial had gone on.

 

 _He can’t help it,_ he reminded himself as Adam disappeared, once again, up the stairs toward the guest room where he’d been sleeping for the past few nights. _No one can tell him what’s the “right way” to deal with this, because there_ is _no right way – only his way, and the only thing you should be doing right now is supporting him through it._

 

Kris wearily sank down on the sofa, running a hand through his hair as he let out a shaky, frustrated sigh.

 

 _It’d just be a lot easier if I could even be sure he wants me here_ at all _right now…_

 

Kris felt both relief, and a deep, hollow ache of loneliness, when Leila followed Adam upstairs, and he heard the unmistakable sound of the door closing behind her. If Adam wouldn’t let him near right now, he was very glad that Leila was there to make sure that he was okay.

 

 _But – why_ won’t _he let me near?_

 

 _What the hell did I_ do?

 

He knew that he and Adam were going to have to have what would probably turn out to be a very long, very emotionally upsetting conversation, sooner rather than later. If they stood a chance of keeping their newly formed relationship together, they would have to deal with the issues that were keeping things so tense and distant between them.

 

 _But – not right away_ , Kris decided. _He deserves at least a night of peace and quiet – a night to let it sink in that he’s finally_ safe, _and that things are going to be all right._

 _It’s something we have to do, but – not tonight._

His thoughts were interrupted when Leila came down the stairs, heading immediately for the coat rack by the front door where she’d hung her jacket when they’d come in. Kris frowned up at her from the sofa, studying her closely and trying to decide if anything was wrong. She was getting ready to leave, rather abruptly, but she didn’t seem angry or upset.

 

“Leila?”

 

She turned to face him, wrapping her scarf around her neck and giving him a warm, hopeful smile. “He told me that he loves me and appreciates my being here for him today – but he needs some time alone with _you_ right now.”

 

Kris blinked up at her, his mouth gaping open in silent surprise for a long moment. Then he shook his head, at a loss.

 

“He – he does?”

 

Leila nodded, moving forward to sit down on the sofa beside Kris and put a reassuring arm around his shoulders. “That’s what he said.” She hesitated a moment, weighing her words before she continued. “Kris – I know things have been difficult lately. I know that Adam – well, he’s not always the easiest to figure out, and that’s when he’s _himself,_ and his every conscious thought is spilling out of his mouth every second. And – he’s _not_ been himself lately, and – I just know that this hasn’t been easy for _you_ , either.”

 

Against his will, Kris felt tears welling up in his eyes, and he stared down at his hands on his knees, shaking his head and closing his eyes. Leila made a gentle shushing noise, though Kris hadn’t made a sound, and pulled his head down onto her shoulder.

 

“You just need to know that – however much he’s struggling right now, Kris – however much he’s hurting and confused and doesn’t know how to get through this – he still loves you. I – I think he started the day he met you, and – and I don’t think he ever stopped. He _needs_ you. Okay?”

 

Kris nodded against her shoulder, feeling weak and childish, but grateful for the chance she was giving him to allow those feelings to surface.

 

He’d been trying so hard to be strong, for so _long_.

 

“I’m going to get out of here, and give you boys your space,” Leila finally said, giving Kris a kiss on the cheek as she drew back to meet his eyes with a warm smile. “Just do what you’ve been doing all along, Kris – just _love_ him.”

 

Kris nodded, not trusting himself to speak, as she rose and headed for the door. Once she had left, he rose to his feet, staring with mingled apprehension and hope toward the stairs, before making his way up them. He took a deep, steadying breath outside the guest room, his hand resting on the handle for a moment as he steeled himself for whatever awaited him inside – and then opened the door.


	69. Chapter 69

Kris finally worked up his courage enough to open the door – not quite sure what to expect on the other side of it.

 

He found Adam sitting up on the bed, dressed only in the soft, well-worn pair of pajama pants that were his favorite to sleep in. Kris had seen a lot of them lately, considering how much Adam had been sleeping; and he supposed that what Adam needed at the moment was familiar and reassuring. Despite the fact that the day had brought them a tremendous victory, Kris knew that the whole thing had to be incredibly overwhelming for Adam.

 

 _Can’t imagine what he’s feeling… how he’s coping with all of this…_

Adam looked up at Kris with a tired smile, softly patting the spot on the bed beside him. Kris returned his smile, grateful for the rare opportunity for closeness that Adam seemed to be offering.

 _Can’t imagine – can only ask._

“How are you feeling?” he cautiously ventured as he sat down beside Adam, close enough to touch, but not touching – leaving that to Adam, if he so chose. “Or is that a dumb question? I mean – I guess it’s hard to say…”

 

“It’s not a dumb question.” Adam’s voice was quiet, subdued, as he stared down at the blanket that half-covered his legs, picking idly at it. “It’s just – I don’t know the answer.” He shrugged slightly, biting his lower lip. “I mean – I know that I _should_. I should be _happy_ now – right? But – I don’t know what I feel right now. I – I’m not sure I’m feeling _anything_.” Adam looked up at last, confusion and uncertainty in his eyes. “Is that weird?”

 

“No. Not at all.”

 

Kris shook his head, reaching out a tentative hand to cover Adam’s, stilling it – relieved when Adam returned the affectionate gesture rather than pulling away.

 

“This isn’t exactly a normal situation, is it? You’re not _supposed_ to feel _anything_ , you know? However you feel is – is okay. And – I guess it’s normal to be sort of – in shock, after everything. You know?”

 

Adam nodded, his shoulders falling with relief, and he leaned his head over to rest on Kris’s shoulder for a moment with a heavy sigh. He looked up at last, meeting Kris’s eyes again, determination on his face.

 

“I know. It’s just – I can’t go with what I feel, or – or don’t feel. I have to go with what I _know_ , and – and I know that if it wasn’t for you, Kris…” Tears welled in Adam’s eyes, and Kris felt a lump rise in his throat, found his own eyes burning, as Adam squeezed his hand. “… I wouldn’t have made it through all of this. I – I’d still be with Jordan, or – or maybe I’d be dead right now. I don’t know. I just know that – that you _saved_ me.”

 

 _You saved yourself, Adam. You’re stronger than you know. You did this; I was just along for the ride…_

 

All the things Kris wanted to say, he couldn’t seem to make come past his lips. He swallowed hard, blinking back tears as Adam turned to face him more fully, moving closer, searching his face with the first obvious, open affection that Kris had seen from him in what felt like forever.

 

“I _love_ you, Kris,” Adam whispered, his voice fervent and almost fiercely intent. “And – I know you love me, too, and – and I’m so sorry for – for being so distant and weird lately. I want – I want things to be better.” He hesitated, looking down for a moment before clarifying, “Things _will_ be better. Okay?”

 

Kris suddenly felt physically weak with relief, leaning in and resting his forehead against Adam’s shoulder as he drew in a deep, shaky breath. “Okay,” he whispered. “Yes – yes, they will. We’re gonna be okay…”

 

“We are,” Adam affirmed softly, turning his head to gently kiss Kris’s temple. “I – I’m so sorry, Kris,” he whispered. “You deserve – so much better than – than what I’ve been giving you lately, and…”

 

“No,” Kris objected, unable to bear the idea that Adam was still blaming himself for _any_ of what the two of them had gone through during the past few weeks – the idea that Adam could even _compare_ what little inconvenience and trouble Kris had experienced in the past month to the _year_ of torture and terror that he’d endured. “Adam, no… you’re – you’re all I could ever want. You’re all I want,” he whispered.

 

Adam was quiet for a moment, reaching a tentative hand up to rest near the collar of Kris’s black, button-down shirt.

 

“I know,” he whispered at last, drawing back just enough to force Kris to raise his head, meeting his eyes with a solemn gaze. “I – I want you, too.”

 

As he spoke, Adam’s fingers toyed uncertainly with the top button of Kris’s shirt – and suddenly, Kris’s mouth went dry, his heart thudding loudly in his ears as he suddenly understood what Adam was getting at – what he was so close to actually _doing_.

 

“Are you – are you sure?” Kris whispered, studying Adam’s face closely for any sign of hesitance. “I mean – you don’t have to, Adam. You know that.”

 

“I know,” Adam replied softly. “I _want_ to. Just… just let me…”

 

Kris couldn’t do anything else, as Adam’s free hand went to his collar as well, and he began slowly unbuttoning Kris’s shirt. As his hands moved down Kris’s chest, Adam lowered his mouth to slowly, seductively kiss each inch of skin as he exposed it – and Kris leaned back against the headboard, closing his eyes and relishing the intensity of sensation, after so long without such intimate contact between them.

 

Kris put one hand at the back of Adam’s head – so lightly, so carefully, unwilling to make him feel trapped or restrained in any way. Adam didn’t flinch, only continued lowering himself down Kris’s body, his mouth trailing soft kisses and darting little flicks of his tongue down Kris’s torso until he reached the waist of the black pants he’d worn to court that day.

 

“Adam… wait.” Kris offered a half-hearted protest when he realized what Adam meant to do. “Wait, you – you don’t have to – I mean, shouldn’t we…”

 

He hesitated, suddenly realizing that while his intentions were good, there was no way he could really state them without putting some kind of pressure on Adam. He wanted for this to be more mutual between them, something from which they would gain equal pleasure.

 

But then – if this was all Adam was ready for – if anything more would have been _too much…_

 

“Let me,” Adam said, rising up a little to meet Kris’s eyes, as his hands unfastened the front of Kris’s pants. “I – I love you, Kris. I need you to know that.”

 

“I do,” Kris assured him. “I love you, too, Adam, I just…”

 

“You’ll never know how much you’ve done for me – how you’ve changed my life,” Adam continued softly, shaking his head slightly. “I just – I need you to understand…”

 

“I get it, it’s just…” Kris gasped, struggling for control as Adam palmed him firmly through the thin fabric that covered his swiftly hardening cock. “Adam… are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

 

Adam smirked, and Kris was both relieved at the spark of the old Adam he saw in his eyes, and unbelievably turned on – even more so as Adam did some sinfully mind-blowing little twisty thing with his hand that drove coherent thought momentarily from Kris’s mind.

 

“Pretty sure I do,” Adam remarked with false innocence. “What do _you_ think?”

 

“That’s… not what I meant,” Kris persisted with an extreme effort, his words halting and breathless. “Just – as long as you’re – ready. I can – we can wait…”

 

“You’ve been waiting long enough,” Adam retorted gently, unfastening Kris’s pants and finally sliding his hand inside.

 

Something about those words didn’t quite set right with Kris, and he frowned, reaching down one hand to catch Adam’s wrist.

 

“Wait…”

 

“I thought we just established that there’s been _enough_ of that…”

 

Kris sat up a little, looking at Adam more closely, noting the strangely guarded look in his eyes past the smile on his lips, the way he looked away and wouldn’t hold Kris’s gaze for more than a few moments. He glanced down at the hand he now held, just in front of the parted fabric of his slacks – and noticed with dismay that it was trembling.

 

“Adam,” he tried again, control easier to find now as his arousal flagged in the face of dawning reality. “Adam – I don’t want this. Not – not _like_ this. Not if it’s just – just because you think I’ve got it coming, or something.”

 

Adam frowned, looking down at the blanket as he abruptly withdrew his hand and sat up. “That’s not it,” he insisted quietly, but there was nothing even remotely convincing in his tone.

 

“When you want this for you,” Kris continued as if he hadn’t spoken, reaching out to take his hand again. “Not just for _me_ – then – then it’ll happen. But – not before. Okay?”

 

Adam didn’t answer, and there was a stubborn, frustrated set to his jaw – but he didn’t pull his hand away again.

 

“I _love_ you, Adam. And – I want that to be the reason for – well, for _anything_ that happens between us.”

 

“I love you, too,” Adam replied, not looking at Kris as he spoke. “I was just – just trying to make things right. Before – before it’s too late.”

 

Kris looked down at their joined hands, running his thumb gently across the back of Adam’s, the lump in his throat returning – but the fear, the uncertainty, was gone.

 

“It’s not too late,” he stated softly. “We _can_ make things right – because we both want to, and – and now that the trial is over and – and we can move forward, we _will_ make things right.” He was quiet for a moment, allowing the words to sink in, before he clarified gently, “But not like this.”

 

Kris shifted a little across the mattress, reaching out to place a steadying arm around Adam’s shoulders – relieved and gratified when Adam sighed, allowing his shoulders to fall and turning into Kris’s embrace. Kris kissed him slowly, gently, trying to convey with the gesture the fledgling surety he was feeling – that things would be okay, now, at last – now that they had all the time in the world to make them so.

 

When their lips parted, Kris and Adam lay down on the bed, Adam a little further down the bed than Kris so that he could rest his head against Kris’s chest. Kris lowered one hand to play soothingly through Adam’s hair, the other clasping Adam’s hand.

 

“We’ll work it all out, Adam,” he assured him. “We’ll talk it out. We have so much to talk about, I know. But there’s plenty of time now. I know you’re exhausted, and so am I, and – and we don’t have to start tonight. We can wait until tomorrow.”

 

Adam nodded against his chest, and Kris found himself smiling, the new sense of hope he was feeling swelling up inside him. They lay there for a long time, just being with each other without speaking, and finally, Kris felt Adam’s weight settle against him as he relaxed, felt his breathing even out as at last he slept.

 

Kris allowed himself to relax as well, closing his eyes and sinking into a much-needed sleep.

 

When he opened his eyes, hours later, the spot on the bed beside him was empty.

 

And so was the closet and dresser that had held all of Adam’s things.


	70. Chapter 70

“So this is how you choose to deal with our problems?”

Adam froze in the doorway, staring down at his white knuckles clenched around the handles of the two suitcases that held everything he’d accumulated during the brief months he’d spent in Kris’s home. The trembling accusation in the words struck his heart, but he steeled himself, swallowing back his uncertainty. In the midst of his confusion, there was one thing he knew for sure.

They could not go on like this.

“You’re just running away, then?” Kris’s voice was hoarse and ragged with sleep and hurt, and it tore at Adam’s emotions, a silent but strong pull to set down his bags, close the door, and rush across the room and back into Kris’s arms.

He set down his bags and closed the door.

“I’m – I’m not running away.”

“Really?” Kris took a step closer to Adam, and Adam tried to push back the irrational sense of apprehension he felt. “Because that’s sure what it looks like.” His voice softened slightly, pleading and urgent, as he moved closer, his hands raised in front of him in a pleading gesture. “Adam, what you need to do right now is just sit down and _talk to me_ …”

“Is it?” The bitter, challenging words spilled from his lips before Adam knew he was going to speak. “Is that what I _need_ right now, Kris? And you _know_ this – how, exactly? Based on all the experience you’ve had being in my shoes, right?”

Kris flinched slightly, dark eyes abruptly averted, and Adam knew his words had hit their mark. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“I am just so fucking _sick_ of everyone else telling me what is fucking _best_ for me! You didn’t go through it, Kris. You don’t get to decide what I should do…”

“I don’t _get_ to?” Kris echoed, his voice rising with anger, and Adam looked up at him sharply, feeling his stomach do that same uncomfortable little flip of unwilling fear, despite the tears shining in Kris’s eyes, despite the clear hurt that fueled his trembling, furious words. “As if that’s what I’ve _wanted_ all this time?”

“Isn’t it?” Adam countered, voice trembling with frustration. “You’re the one who makes all the decisions, right? You’re the one who decided who it was safe to let talk to me when I first came here. I just finished testifying about how Jordan took my phone away to keep me from talking to my family and friends – how he decided what he thought was best and then enforced it without caring what _I_ wanted. Well, guess who else did that?”

Adam saw Kris’s eyes widening with understanding, his lips parted in disbelief, knew that he was crossing a line as he let these old frustrations surface, but knew that he simply couldn’t keep them in any longer.

“ _You_!” he spat out, his resentment undisguised in his voice. “You took my phone away from me when I first came here…”

Kris shook his head, visibly bewildered. “I _had_ to,” he argued. “If I hadn’t, you would have gone running right back to him, and you’d probably be _dead_ right now! You just said so, on the witness stand!”

“But it was _my choice_ , Kris! It should have been _my_ decision! All of this – all these things you’ve just – just taken over should have been _my decisions_!”

“Of course they should have!” Kris exploded, throwing up his hands in frustration, only a few short feet separating them now, and Adam’s stomach lurched, his pulse racing, palms damp as he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, every ounce of will he had focused on _not_ backing away from Kris’s overpowering fury. “Adam – I haven’t had a _choice_! You haven’t _given_ me one, because you wouldn’t decide _anything_ for _yourself_!”

****************************************

Some distant, vastly overwhelmed part of Kris’s mind was aware that he was pushing too far, past the boundaries of Adam’s fragile, new-found security and strength, and letting things surface that he had worked so hard to fight down for the past month, for Adam’s benefit.

But he’d awakened alone in the bed they’d been sharing, to find Adam’s closet and dresser empty, and Adam himself with one foot out the door, all but literally; and he was angry – angry and hurt and frustrated, because what was there that he could do that he hadn’t been _doing_ , already, throughout this entire ordeal? What else did Adam expect of him that he wasn’t already giving?

It was enough to momentarily push him past the edge of his control.

“I don’t get it, Adam!” he nearly shouted in frustration, waving his hands helplessly in front of him. “I don’t know what you _want_ from me anymore!"

And an almost imperceptible motion – the slightest hint of a flinch, as Kris suddenly, emphatically waved his arms just a little too near Adam’s face – was enough to abruptly, completely, pull him back away from the edge again.

Kris froze, heart clenching painfully in his chest, as Adam closed his eyes, his face coloring with humiliation as he sighed and shook his head.

“See?” he said in a soft, defeated voice that took the life out of what was left of Kris’s anger. “This isn’t going to work – not like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Kris whispered, edging nearer, reaching out to cautiously take Adam’s hand. “Adam, I didn’t mean to – to freak you out, I just…”

“It’s not going to work – because of _me_ ,” Adam clarified softly as he gently but pointedly withdrew his hand, meeting Kris’s eyes sadly. “You shouldn’t have to apologize for – for raising your voice. For talking with your hands. For – for us having a stupid fucking fight that any other couple might have and not think anything of it. Kris – you shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around me…”

“But that’s not _your_ fault,” Kris insisted, feeling a hollow sensation begin to build in his chest, the dread of _knowing_ , already, even as he was trying so desperately, that he would not be able to talk Adam out of his intended course of action. “Jordan did a number on you – okay. I get that. And it’s going to take a while to get past that, but – but I know you _will_ get past it, Adam. I know you will…”

Adam nodded slowly, tears shining in his eyes as he met Kris’s gaze with sorrow and resignation. “I know. I will,” he agreed in a hoarse whisper. “But… not with you.”

Kris felt as if he’d been punched square in the chest, all the breath driven from his lungs in one painful blow. “I can change,” he offered, blurting out the words desperately. “I can – can stop making decisions for you, Adam. I never wanted to, to begin with. I just thought you needed it, but – but I trust you to know what’s best for you, Adam. I _do_ …”

“Then… you have to trust me _now_ , Kris,” Adam pointed out sadly. “You have to respect this, when I tell you that – I love you, and – and I know you love me, too, but – but right now, you’re too much in control of my life. I know – I know you’re not like Jordan, but – but you _are_ sometimes, Kris. And you weren't before we were together, and I can only think that it’s – something about _me_ – something I’m doing that makes you – makes _guys_ think that I’m not – capable of choosing for myself. That I have to be – looked after and taken care of and all that shit, and – and I was never like that before. But – a part of me is, now, and – and I have to figure out what that part of me is – and get rid of it.”

“That part wasn’t there until Jordan put it there,” Kris pointed out quietly. “Adam – you’re so much stronger than that. Once you’re away from him for a little while longer, you’ll remember that again.”

“Maybe,” Adam conceded. “Maybe not. But – not if I’m still here – still leaning on you to be my safety net and make sure I make the right choices and don’t get myself hurt again. I need to figure out where to go from here, Kris – and I don’t have the first fucking clue. All I know is that – this is something I have to do.” He paused, looking away for a moment before meeting Kris’s eyes again. “And – it’s something I have to do _alone_.”

Kris couldn’t find the words to argue with that – not without doing exactly what Adam had just accused him of – taking over, making decisions that were by rights only Adam’s to make. He swallowed back the sob that rose in his throat, his only response a slow, defeated nod. Through the blur of tears that obscured his vision, he saw Adam moving cautiously closer, and raised one hand to brush the tears away, looking up into Adam’s eyes and forcing a brave, accepting smile.

“I get it. I do, Adam. I’m sorry, I just – I can’t imagine – living without you, now. But – if it’s what you need. If you’re _sure_ …”

“It is. I am,” Adam assured him. “I love you, Kris. And – and I want to be here with you, but – but I have to get better first. I have to learn how to – to _be_ better, before – before I can be with _anyone_.”

Kris nodded again, drawing in a deep, shaky breath and letting it out slowly.

“So… this is goodbye.”

Adam let out a shuddering sigh before nodding hurriedly, as if the full impact of his decision was just now hitting him. “Yeah,” he whispered breathlessly. “Yeah, it is.”

Kris swallowed hard, hesitating before forcing out the words, because he had to _know_.

“For good?”

Adam reached down to take his hand, hesitant and uncertain, squeezing it gently as he finally offered a tentative response. “For _now_.”

And with those words, he turned back toward the door, picked up his suitcases, and walked away.


	71. Chapter 71

Two full weeks passed before Kris heard anything from Adam.

 

Everything he did – every little mundane detail of his day that he would have been sharing with Adam – just made his absence that much more impossible to ignore.

 

When he made breakfast, he noticed the canisters of exotic teas that Adam had forgotten to take with him, and wondered if he would miss them, wondered if he’d be able to get more, on his own, when he hadn’t been able to so much as go to the store on his own since – well, since Jordan.

 

Lying down at night, sleep came to Kris with difficulty – and sometimes not at all. He couldn’t help but imagine Adam, alone, trying to sleep, awakened in the middle of the night, with no one close by to soothe away his nightmares.

 

But then – for the past week or so, during the trial, Adam had rarely wanted Kris to touch him, let alone comfort him during the night.

 

It was the memory of that rejection, the painful truth of Adam’s accusations just before he walked out the door, that kept Kris from dialing Adam’s number and asking where he was staying, how he was doing, whether or not he was sure he didn’t want to just come home.

 _But… this isn’t_ his _home. Not really. It’s yours. And – he needs to find a place that’s_ his _right now. That’s the problem._

 

You’re _the problem._

 

Somewhere along the way, Kris realized, it had stopped being about how much Adam needed him, and had become about how much _Kris_ needed Adam to need _him_.

 _And that’s not fair to him. It’s not fair to be selfish about this – to wish him to stay damaged, stay needy and dependent upon you – when he’s trying to find some way to heal, some way to get back to the way he once was._

 _And that’s why… that’s why you have to leave him alone._

 

So Kris didn’t call Adam.

 

He only made it to the third day before calling Leila.

 

“Kris.” She answered on the fifth ring, her voice soft with compassion. “Hi, sweetie. How are you holding up?”

 

Kris swallowed hard, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him, trying to focus on the reason he was calling – which _wasn’t_ to bawl like a baby over the phone to Adam’s mom. He closed his eyes, hating the trembling uncertainty in his voice, despite his best efforts to keep it calm and steady.

 

“I’m okay,” he replied. “I just – I know Adam wants me to stay away right now, and I don’t want to bother him, but – but I just wanted to make sure he’s doing okay, you know? On – on his own. Do you know – I mean – where – no, I shouldn’t ask…”

 

“He’s staying here with me, Kris,” Leila cut him off gently. “He doesn’t mind you knowing that.”

 

“Oh.” Kris let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of relief at her words. “It – it makes me feel so much better knowing that, Leila. Knowing – that he’s with you. I mean – if I can’t be there for him myself…”

 

“I know,” Leila acknowledged, her sympathy clear in her voice. “That’s why Adam doesn’t mind you knowing.” She paused, and Kris heard a slight hesitation before she went on softly, “He – he knows this is hard for you, too, Kris. He’s not – not trying to hurt you. I hope you know that.”

 

Kris struggled to speak past the knot in his throat, his eyes burning with tears. “I know,” he finally managed to hoarsely whisper. “I know this – this isn’t about me. He needs to – to figure things out on his own for a while, and – I get that.”

 

“He’s doing really well so far,” Leila informed him, her tone optimistic and encouraging. “He’s seen his therapist three times this week, and besides that he’s pretty much staying home, reconnecting with his family, trying to get back to who he was – before all this, you know?”

 

Kris nodded, though he knew she couldn’t see it, replying softly, “Yeah. I know.”

 _Before Jordan._

 _Before_ me.

 

“Kris – he misses you,” Leila finally admitted. “And – that doesn’t change what he needs to be doing right now, but – I just thought you should know.”

 

The tears he’d been trying to hold back finally fell down Kris’s face, and he felt almost ashamed of the intense relief he felt at her words. “Thanks,” he whispered, hoping he didn’t sound as miserable and lonely as he felt. “Just – tell him I…” He stopped, swallowing hard, and shaking his head. “No,” he amended with a shaky sigh. “No, don’t tell him I called. I – I don’t want to make this harder on him than it already is.”

 

“Okay,” Leila agreed gently, her sympathy coming through clearly in her voice. “Thank you for calling, Kris. And really – call anytime, okay? Adam may not be ready to talk to you yet, but I’m here anytime you need me.”

 

*********************************************

 

When Adam finally did call, two weeks into their separation, it was at four o’clock in the morning.

 

The call didn’t wake Kris; he’d been lying there, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Adam, for hours. It was almost no surprise to see Adam’s name on his caller ID. .

 

Kris’s heart leapt up into his throat, his thoughts racing with irrational fear. What reason would Adam have to call at this hour, when he wasn’t supposed to be speaking to Kris at all? Of all the scenarios that Kris’s mind went through in the few seconds before he answered the phone, not a single one was good.

 

“Adam?”

 

There was only silence on the line for a long moment, but Kris could feel him there, and his hand tightened around the receiver, holding on for dear life to the one shred of connection he had.

 

“Adam – are you okay?”

 

“Y-yeah.” Finally Adam replied. “I just – I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all. I – I didn’t wake you, did I? Can you – can we talk?” Adam’s voice was low and hoarse, and Kris recognized the tired, sleep-worn sound of it. Adam had just awakened, himself.

 _Which means…_

 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

 

Adam was silent.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kris sat up on the side of his bed, running one hand down over his face, rubbing at his tired eyes. When Adam still didn’t speak for a few moments, he persisted gently. “Come on, Adam. I’m right here. I know you didn’t call just to hear me ramble on about nothing.”

 

Adam laughed softly, and though there was a sad, rueful tone to his laughter, the sound was a delight, almost musical to Kris’s ears. He felt his eyes welling with tears, his chest aching with loss, and his grip around the phone tightened with frustration. All he wanted was to have Adam _here_ , where he could look into his eyes and see the things he was trying to hide, hold him close and chase away the fears that still haunted his nights.

 

“I was… back home. At my house,” Adam admitted at last, his voice quiet and small, too calm, and Kris ached to touch him, to soothe it all away. “Jordan was there. He was – ch-choking me. Holding me down. On the – on the bed.” Adam’s halting words began to tremble as he shared the vision that had awakened him, and Kris closed his eyes, swallowing back the sick feeling that rose in his throat. “He said – he was going to – to do whatever he wanted to me, because – because I’m still his,” Adam whispered. “I’ll – _always_ be his, and – and I’ll never get away. Never – change. Never – be my own again.”

 

Kris waited until he was sure Adam was finished, struggling to keep his voice steady and reassuring, as he replied softly.

 

“You know that’s not true, right?”

 

Adam was quiet for too long before agreeing, his voice uncertain and small. “Yeah.”

 

“ _Adam_.”

 

“I _know_ ,” Adam insisted, his voice only a little stronger, though his exhaustion and frustration came through loud and clear. “It’s just – it’s hard, you know?”

 

“I know,” Kris agreed with a sigh, running his hand through his hair. “I know it is. But – you’ve got your family there with you. Your mom. You’ve got – dozens of people who love you, Adam, and – and they’re going to keep on reminding you that – that those things Jordan said – they’re all lies, Adam. You’re doing so great. It’s going to take time, but – but you’re going to be just fine, Adam. Nothing he _did_ can _touch_ who you _are_.”

 

Adam was quiet again, and when he spoke, Kris could hear the tears in his voice – and it brought his own flowing down his face again.

 

“I just – sometimes I – I don’t know if I can do it.”

 

“You _can_ ,” Kris insisted. “You’re the strongest person I know, Adam. You’re going to make it through this. If anyone can, it’s you, babe.” Kris winced slightly the moment the word passed his lips, feeling as if he’d crossed a line. “I’m sorry,” he immediately offered with a sigh. “I just – I just miss you. That’s all. I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have said that.”

 

Adam didn’t speak for a long moment, and Kris felt an uneasy feeling building in the pit of his stomach. Whatever this was, this fragile touch, this reaching out for connection – he’d probably just blown it completely by continuing to talk to Adam as if they were still boyfriends.

 _Except… he never said we_ weren’t, _exactly._

 _That’s the problem. I don’t know_ what _we are right now._

 

“I – I shouldn’t have – this was probably a mistake,” Adam replied at last.

 

“I’m sorry,” Kris repeated. “Adam, I…”

 

“No, you don’t need to be sorry,” Adam explained. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just – I shouldn’t be doing this – to _you_. The whole point is to – to get some distance. To get past all of this on my own, and – and here I am leaning on you. _Again._ ”

 

“It’s okay,” Kris insisted. “Adam, it’s fine…”

 

“No. It’s really not.” Adam’s voice was firm, and Kris stopped trying to argue, hating the weakness and need that made him argue in the first place. “I – I miss you, too, Kris. So much. But – but we can’t do this. I – I can’t call you again for a while. This – has to be it, for now.”

 

The words hurt, although deep down Kris knew Adam was right. He blinked back the hot tears that streaked his face, forcing his voice to be steady and strong as he replied.

 

“You’re right. Of course you’re right, Adam. What – whatever you need.”

 

He hesitated, the words he wanted to speak echoing in his mind, trembling on the tip of his tongue – but he kept them back.

 _It’ll just make things harder – for_ Adam.

 _Just because you need to_ say _it doesn’t mean he needs to_ hear _it – not now_.

 

“Kris…” Adam’s voice was hushed and tentative. “… I… I love you.”

 

Kris turned the phone away from his mouth to conceal the hoarse sob that escaped his lips, his shoulder shaking as he tried to maintain some semblance of control over the overwhelming emotions he’d been holding back for the past two weeks.

 

“Kris?”

 

Adam sounded worried now, and uncertain – the vulnerability in his voice drawing Kris back from the edge of his own feelings and forcing him to focus on what Adam needed from him right now.

 

“Yeah,” he replied at last, unable to disguise the emotion in his voice. “Yeah, I – I love you, too.”

 

And before he could completely fall apart, and make Adam feel guilty for simply doing what he _had_ to do, for himself, to get better – Kris hung up the phone and laid back down in the bed, surrendering his self-control and giving way to his tears.


	72. Chapter 72

Over the course of the next few weeks, Kris talked to Leila almost daily – but he didn’t hear from Adam again.

 

He was encouraged by the things that Leila told him about the progress Adam was making. Though he missed Adam desperately, it helped to hear how he was starting to recover from the trauma Jordan had inflicted upon him, even if it was only in very small ways.

 

“His dad was here the other night,” Leila recounted one evening, about a month after Adam had left, a note of exultant satisfaction in her voice. “And he was watching one of those incredibly frustrating political news programs where the announcers all argue over top of each other, and you can’t make out a word of what they’re saying – unless you watch those shows all the time, which Eber does. Anyway, one of them said something he disagreed with, and without thinking he raised his voice and yelled at the screen – and Adam just _laughed_. A _real_ laugh, Kris, not just trying to pretend he was okay.”

 

“That’s – that’s great, Leila,” Kris replied, raising one hand to press against his eyes, trying to keep back the wave of bittersweet emotion that swept over him in response to that story.

 

He was very glad to hear that Adam was starting to deal with things like yelling without freaking out. At the same time, the story was a vivid reminder of the day when Jordan had attacked Adam in the boutique when they were shopping, and how Kris had gone on a furious rampage throughout their house, too focused on his rage at Jordan to realize that _his_ behavior was what was hurting Adam at the moment.

 

“And the nightmares,” Leila continued, her voice softer and serious, “they’re not every night anymore. I mean, he still gets them. A lot, but – but not every night. And – that’s progress.”

 

“I’m so glad to hear it,” Kris replied with full sincerity. “I just – wish I could be there to see it.” But he couldn’t help wondering if Adam would be making any progress _at all_ if he was there with him.

 _Maybe he was right,_ Kris realized, swallowing back the knot in his throat. _He’ll get better a lot faster without me around._

 

He held onto the memory of that brief phone conversation they’d had, Adam’s declaration that he missed him, and that he still loved him, playing over and over in Kris’s mind, like a promise. But as the days wore on, his conversations with Leila became less satisfying and more frustrating, and Kris found himself wondering if, whenever Adam finally found a place of healing, there would still be any place left for Kris in his life.

 

Nearly a month after that cherished phone call, Leila called Kris in the middle of the day – something that was outside their usual pattern – and it immediately made Kris worry.

 

“Hey,” he said as soon as he answered, without pausing for her to speak. “What happened? Is Adam okay?”

 

“Yes, yes, Kris, he’s fine,” Leila hurried to assure him. “Getting better all the time, actually. In fact – that’s why I’m calling.”

 

Kris frowned, puzzled, but waited for her to explain.

 

“Would you be willing to talk to Adam on the phone again, sometime soon?”

 

Kris was speechless for a moment, not quite sure he’d heard correctly. “Are you kidding me?” he replied at last, letting out a slightly breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Of course I’m _willing_. Is – is _Adam_?”

 

“Don’t get your hopes up too high, sweetie, okay?” Leila hurried to remind him, and Kris tried to check the swelling sense of excitement that had begun in his chest. “It’s just – a baby step, really. Adam and his therapist have been talking about – about the two of you, and some of the issues you’ve had, and – and his therapist thinks he’s ready to have some contact with you again, but – it’s _not_ dating, Kris. It’s nothing even close to that at this point. Okay?”

 

Kris hesitated, overwhelmed and hopeful against his better judgment and more than a little confused. “O-okay.”

 

“It’s just that in order to get past some of the issues he had with Jordan – and some of the issues he had with you – Adam’s going to need to talk about it. With _you_.” Leila was quiet for a moment before continuing, her voice soft and understanding. “He doesn’t want to lose what the two of you have, Kris. At the very least, he still wants you to be able to be a part of his life. But – that’s going to mean starting off all over again – and on better ground than you started the first time. It’s going to mean – approaching this slowly and carefully, and – and it’s going to mean Adam saying some things you might not want to hear.”

 

Kris swallowed hard, a tight, cold feeling of apprehension settling in the pit of his stomach. “Okay,” he repeated. “I can – I can do that. I think. I mean – Leila, I don’t know what I’m doing here, but… but I can try to do – I don’t know, to – to say whatever it is that Adam needs to hear.” He hesitated a moment before asking softly, “What – what _does_ Adam need me to hear?”

 

“It’s not like that, Kris,” Leila gently corrected him. “There’s nothing specific that he needs to hear from you, except – he just needs you to listen to him. Just let him say what he needs to say, let him work through these things aloud. Don’t judge him, and don’t take it personally. Just – validate what he’s feeling – let him know that it’s okay to feel it, whatever it is – and let him know that you’re still here for him, even if the two of you never get back together.” She was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again, her words were heavy with the weight of responsibility they held.

 

“Can you honestly tell him that, Kris?”

 

Kris didn’t have to think about the answer, though the thought of Adam deciding to go on with his life without Kris at his side was almost physically painful. He nodded, closing his eyes.

 

“I can.”

 

“Okay. Then – he’ll call you as soon as he feels he’s ready. Thank you, Kris.” Leila’s voice was soft with grateful affection. “Thank you for – for loving my son.”

 

*********************************************

 

That night, Adam called.

 

Kris’s heart was racing, his stomach in knots as he tried not to expect too much, tried not to allow his imagination to be too optimistic about what this meant and where it might lead. After the initial hellos, however, Adam fell silent, and Kris began to wonder if maybe this was a mistake – if maybe they weren’t ready for this yet.

 

“I’m still in love with you, Kris.”

 

Kris’s heart clenched in his chest at the aching honesty of those words, and he swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to answer automatically in return, reminding himself that this was about _Adam_ and what _he_ needed to say.

 

“I’ve – I’ve been in love with you since – well, almost since I met you,” Adam continued at last, his voice halting and trembling a little. “You weren’t just ‘my type’, Kris. It was more than just attraction – more than just – a _crush_. You – you were the first guy I’d met in a long time that I thought – I thought I could really see myself with. You know – for good.” Adam was quiet for a long moment, his voice breaking over his next words as he struggled to get them out. “And – then when you – you couldn’t love me back…”

 

Kris couldn’t stand the raw pain in Adam’s voice, couldn’t bear the idea of Adam not knowing how he’d felt, even way back then. “Adam, I didn’t have a choice…”

 

“I know that,” Adam cut him off softly. “Kris, please. This – isn’t about – blame, or anything like that. I know you did the only thing you knew to do at the time. I know you – you didn’t feel like you had a choice, and – and maybe you really didn’t. I’m not blaming you or saying any of this is your fault. It’s just – I need you to – to understand – what that _did_ to me. You didn’t do anything wrong by – by not loving me when I wanted you to. But – it still hurt.”

 

Kris felt the sting of tears in his eyes, tried to swallow, to gain enough control of his voice to respond, as Adam finally fell silent. At last he managed to reply, his words low and thick with emotion.

 

“Adam – I did love you,” he confessed. “Almost – almost since I met you. It’s just – I loved her, too. And – I couldn’t just walk away from that. I couldn’t stand to hurt her like that. And – I know that – I _did_ end up hurting her in the end, and probably a lot worse than if I’d just walked away when I realized what I felt for you, but – but please, Adam. Don’t ever think that I didn’t love you. I did. And – I do.” Kris hesitated, his words barely over a whisper as he concluded, “I always will.”

 

Adam was silent for a long moment, and Kris was suddenly, painfully sure that he’d gone too far, said more than Adam was ready to hear at the moment.

 _Leila told me to keep my mouth shut and listen to what he had to say… should have just listened to her…_

 

“Adam – Adam, I shouldn’t have – have said that, I guess…”

 

“So…” Adam abruptly broke in, his voice raised slightly. “… so you’re telling me that none of this ever should have happened?”

 

Kris frowned, caught off guard. “What?” He shook his head, realizing belatedly that it was a useless gesture. “Adam, no, I…”

 

“If you’d told me – why didn’t you just _tell_ me?”

 

Kris suddenly felt defensive, frustrated, and fought to keep his own rising anger under control. “ _Told you_ that I was in _love_ with you? While I was still married, still in love with my wife, too, still trying to – to figure all of this out? Adam – you’re the first – the _only man_ I’ve ever fallen for!”

 

“You didn’t have to leave her, Kris,” Adam argued, his voice tearful, but trembling with anger. “If you’d just told me – if I hadn’t thought that – that you didn’t want me – then maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe Jordan wouldn’t have had a chance…”

 

It was like a slap in the face, the full force of Adam’s bitter accusation – and before he knew it, Kris was responding without thought, defensive and accusing himself.

 

“I thought this wasn’t about blame, Adam,” he snapped. “So which is it? Is it my fault, or isn’t it?”

 

“Yes!” Adam replied immediately. Then, a moment later, “No. I – I don’t know. I just know that if you’d been honest with me about how you felt, I might not have let Jordan convince me to go out with him in the first place. He was never my type. He wasn’t someone I’d have given a second glance to, if – if I just thought…”

 

He was quiet for a moment. Kris could hear the sound of his shallow, shaky breaths as he struggled to regain control, and the sound brought tears to his eyes, instantly reining in his anger and replacing it with regret.

 

“Adam – look, I’m sorry…”

 

“This was a bad idea.”

 

And without another word, the sound of Adam’s voice, his breath, his presence on the other end of the line, were cut off with the soft click of the call being disconnected. Kris stared at the receiver in his hand for a long moment, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened, how the conversation had gone so wrong, so quickly – and finally set his phone down and turned away.

 _Maybe he’s right. Maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe he’s not ready yet._

 _And… maybe he never will be._


	73. Chapter 73

_So that’s it._

 

Kris hung up the phone, covering his face with his hands and trying to breathe, trying not to cry with frustration, trying not to think about the unthinkable conclusion his thoughts had already reached in his mind.

 

 _That very well might have been the last time I talk to Adam._

 

For all his insistence, all along, that he didn’t blame Kris for what had happened with Jordan, that was clearly not true – and Kris wasn’t entirely sure that Adam was _wrong_ to blame him. His heart ached to think how things might have been different for them, different for _Adam_ , if he’d been brave enough to say how he felt years earlier.

 

 _Brave enough to break Katy’s heart? Brave enough to turn my back on my marriage vows for someone I’d known for a few months?_

 

Deep down, Kris knew it hadn’t even been a choice. Still, he thought of Adam, how bold and confident and vital he’d been, before Jordan had gotten his claws in him and broken him, and couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming feeling of regret for how it had all turned out, how deeply damaged Adam was now.

 

 _And he might be that way for a while,_ Kris realized with a sinking heart. _He’s got to take some time to remember who he was – or figure out who he is_ now, _or – or_ something, _and – and when he does – there’s no guarantee that he’ll still need me, or_ want _me – or be able to forgive me for letting this happen to him._

 _This might really be it. It might really be over between us._

Kris took a little time for his tears, for the loss of the love that he’d just barely found – but as the tears died away, he found himself at a loss, no longer sure what he felt, as his pain and grief gradually gave way to a quiet numbness. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do next.

 

 _What am I supposed to do without Adam?_

 

A soft, humorless laugh escaped his lips, as he glanced down at his still, dark phone again.

 

 _My manager might have a few ideas…_

 

That thought turned his mind toward other things, things he’d barely considered since Adam had come back into his life a few months earlier – things like his upcoming album, and the team working on it, who had been so patient with his personal issues, understanding that he needed to be there for Adam through this difficult time – things like the various engagements he’d given up and passed on to someone else, in order to spend time with Adam.

 

He imagined that his manager, whom he hadn’t spoken with in nearly two weeks, was probably getting pretty frustrated with him – possibly even considering moving on to focus on someone else, someone who _wasn’t_ apparently determined to let his career drift away without any attempt to stop it.

 

Kris stood up, picking up his phone from the night stand and pressing the button to view the screen. He’d missed a call from Leila, but there was no message. He stared down at the phone for a long moment, considering.

 

 _Leila, not Adam. Probably wanting to do damage control. If it was an emergency, she’d have called again or left a message. But – I don’t need my feelings soothed. That’s – not what’s important right now._

 

Kris swallowed hard, clearing the screen and scrolling through his contact list until he found his manager’s name. He stared down at it for a moment, indecisive.

 

 _Adam may never be ready to talk to me again – to be with me again. The part of my life with him in it – might very well be over. But if that’s true – if Adam’s not going to be in my life anymore…_

 

Kris pressed the call button and raised the phone to his ear.

 

 _… then I need to make sure I actually still_ have _a life to be a part of. Adam’s been the focus of my existence for the past few months, and hopefully I helped him, but – but for now… if Adam decides he wants to talk, he knows where to find me._

 _It’s time for me to focus on_ me _again._

*****************************************

“I know it’s useless. I’m not supposed to be dwelling on the past. I know. It’s just – I can’t help thinking about – how _different_ things could have been, you know?”

 

Dr. Moore nodded thoughtfully, accepting Adam’s feelings without judgment, without any sense of approval or disapproval – just listening.

 

Adam had found that he needed a lot of that lately.

 

“So – did you discuss those thoughts with Kris, when the two of you talked yesterday? Is that what your conversation was about?”

 

“Yeah. Sort of.” Adam grimaced, the pain and regret of that conversation filling his heart again with the reminder. “I mean, that – didn’t go so well,” he admitted at last. “It wasn’t so much a _conversation_ , as – as me – blaming Kris for – for everything that happened with Jordan. Because – you know, he could have stopped it if – if I’d just known how he felt, way back then.”

 

He hesitated, unable to bring himself to meet his therapist’s gaze as he tried to explain what he’d felt during that call, even though now, outside of the heat of the moment, it no longer seemed to make sense, even to him.

 

“I mean – if I’d known, then – then maybe I wouldn’t have fallen for Jordan. Maybe – everything would have been different. Even if he hadn’t left her, if he’d just been honest with me… maybe… who knows how things might have turned out?”

 

Dr. Moore nodded, accepting that, before cautiously venturing a thoughtful question. “How would you have reacted differently, Adam, if Kris had told you how he felt, but chosen to stay with his wife? Would that have felt like acceptance to you? Or rejection?”

 

Adam frowned, considering. “Rejection,” he admitted at last. “I mean – it wouldn’t really have changed the way I felt right then…”

 

“Right then – when you turned to Jordan for comfort?” Dr. Moore clarified gently. “So – if it wouldn’t have changed how you felt – do you think it would have changed how you reacted?”

 

Adam sighed, his heart sinking with the confirmation of what he’d really already known. He remembered the hurt and anger in Kris’s voice as he’d tried to defend himself and his choices way back then – and he closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands.

 

“No. No, it wouldn’t have. I – I fucked up,” he admitted quietly. “I – I hung up on him. I know it’s not his fault, it’s just – I can’t stop thinking about – who I was back then, and – and what if I was still that person…”

 

“You _are_ still that person, Adam,” Dr. Moore pointed out gently. “You just have to discover yourself again. That’s all. And – you’re right, what you said before. Dwelling on the past isn’t going to help you do that. Right now, what you need to focus on is moving forward – making a future for yourself, outside the frame of reference of what’s happened to you during the last year.”

 

“I – I know,” Adam agreed, uncertain. “I want that. It’s just…” He hesitated, trying to find the right words, before looking up at her, studying her face as he confessed, “I – can’t really imagine that future – without _Kris_.”

 

“Are you still angry at Kris, now?” Dr. Moore asked, her expression still betraying no judgment, no disappointment or approval – simply mild interest and concern. “After your conversation?”

 

“No,” Adam sighed. “Not really. I mean – it comes and goes?” He shook his head sadly, at a loss. “I know it’s not really his fault. I know that, in my head. And – most of the time in my heart. It’s just – it’s just if he’d only told me the _truth_ back then…” His voice trailed off, and he gave up, looking away.

 

“Let me ask you a question, Adam,” Dr. Moore said quietly after a moment. She paused, weighing her words before she continued. “When you told Kris how you felt, and asked him to tell you his feelings – do you feel you really had the right to _ask_ him for that?”

 

Adam frowned, taken aback by the question, and immediately feeling a little defensive. “What does _that_ mean?”

 

Dr. Moore did not seem in the slightest affected by his tone. She continued in the same calm, even manner, “It means that I’d like you to think for a moment about exactly what you were asking Kris to do, when you told him how you felt. You weren’t just asking for an honest expression of his feelings. You were also asking him to turn his back on his commitments – his relationship with his wife – his entire life as he knew it. Think about all that would have been a part of an honest answer in that moment – and tell me – do you honestly feel that it was fair to ask Kris for that, at that time in both of your lives?”

 

Adam lowered his head, swallowing hard, a knot in his throat as he considered how Kris must have felt in that moment, torn between his love for Adam, and his love for not only his wife, but for his life as he knew it – and realized, fully, for the first time, what an impossible choice he’d faced Kris with.

 

“No,” he admitted softly at last. “No, that – that _wasn’t_ fair.” He paused, a heaviness building in his chest with the uncomfortable weight of realization. “It’s my fault,” he concluded, barely over a whisper. “All of it. It’s _my_ fault it happened…”

 

“No, Adam,” Dr. Moore interrupted, her tone gentle and reassuring. “It’s _not_ your fault. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just saying that – Kris’s reactions are understandable. He couldn’t have predicted that any of this would happen, any more than you could have. And – I’m also saying that – I think the biggest issue here that you need to come to terms with, before you can have a healthy relationship with Kris, or with _anyone_ – is for you to reach a place where you feel sufficient to yourself – where you don’t need a guy to make you feel safe and secure and confident.”

 

Adam nodded slowly, taking in her words, and thinking of how swiftly, how desperately he’d fallen into Jordan’s arms when Kris had rejected him.

 

“I – I _used_ to be,” he replied, sad and a little wistful. “Secure. Confident.”

 

“Think back, Adam,” Dr. Moore instructed quietly. “Think back. When was the last time you felt that? That self-sufficiency?”

 

Adam thought about it, and his heart sank, his voice breaking as he confessed at last, “I – I don’t remember. Honestly, I’ve – I’ve _never_ been good at – at being alone…”

 

He was quiet for a moment, considering, before he let out a ragged, shaky breath and acknowledged sadly, “Oh, God. I – It’s _me_ , isn’t it? I’ve been the problem all along, haven’t I? Before Jordan was ever in the picture. What’s – what’s wrong with me, that I was so desperate to be with someone that I just fell for Jordan the moment Kris rejected me – that I was willing to ruin Kris’s whole life just to be with him?”

 

“Nothing’s _wrong_ with you, Adam,” Dr. Moore assured him, her tone calm and understanding. “But – I _do_ think there are issues here that go much deeper than what you experienced with Jordan. And I think that’s what we need to focus on right now – finding _your own_ strength, Adam – independent of Kris, or anyone else. And – don’t get me wrong. What Jordan did to you was _not_ your fault. But you can’t fix Jordan. And – you can’t fix Kris. You _can_ fix _you_ , Adam – and the first step toward that – the first step toward finding your own strength – is taking responsibility for your own actions.”

 

****************************************

 

A month passed for Kris, without any contact with Adam.

 

He spoke to Leila a few times, but even then, he tried to keep it as brief as possible, making a point to try to not be as involved as he’d been before – because he had been involved, he could admit to himself now, even after Adam had made it clear that he didn’t _want_ Kris to be. He tried to focus on his own life, his own goals, all the things that he’d set aside for the past few months in order to help Adam get through the trauma of Jordan’s abuse.

 

And to his surprise, he did a pretty good job of it.

 

He wrote several new songs, and made good progress in the studio toward making them sound like they felt in his heart when he’d written them. Each day he came home exhausted, but satisfied, with a sense of contentment that came with the realization that he was once again doing what he’d been born to do – making music.

 

The work felt soothing and familiar and _good_ , and kept him from focusing on the lingering questions that still haunted him in the quiet moments – questions about how Adam was doing, whether or not he was getting better, whether or not there was anything Kris could do to help him.

 

Deep down, Kris knew that the best thing he could do was to focus on his own life, and putting it back together – and that was a lot easier to do when he kept himself busy.

 

On the other hand, Kris was pretty sure his songs were better for the emotional hardship he’d been faced with recently.

 

His manager was greatly relieved with his progress, as were the officials from his record label who were working with him on the project. They’d all been as supportive as he could have expected them to be, but he knew they’d been worried. Truth be told, Kris was pretty sure his contract had been hanging by a thread when he’d finally set foot back in the studio and put things to rights.

 

Finally, things _did_ seem to be going right – and Kris was beginning to feel like himself again.

 

And that’s when his telephone rang.

 

Kris stared down at the number, surprised to see not Leila’s number, but Adam’s, flashing on the screen. He hesitated a moment, taking a deep breath and sitting down at his kitchen table, steadying himself before he hit the receive button and raised the phone to his ear.

 

“H-hello?”

 

“Kris.” Adam’s voice was soft and warm in his ear, immediately striking a familiar chord in his heart that made Kris _ache_ with missing him. “I’m sorry,” Adam blurted out, his nervousness over the admission clear in his voice. “I – I really am, about – the things I said to you, and – the way that last conversation went. So – can we – can we try this again?”


	74. Chapter 74

Kris didn’t know what to say – so for a long, tense moment, he didn’t say anything.

 

There was a sort of stunned, numb silence to Kris’s thoughts, as he slowly registered the fact that finally, after all this time, Adam had called him again. So many weeks spent wondering if he’d ever hear from Adam again, trying to focus on _anything_ else, and to get on with the parts of his life not directly connected to Adam.

 

And finally, he’d managed it.

 

Once clear, true thought rang in the stillness of his mind.

 

_I’m not sure I’m ready to go through this again…_

 

“I-I’m really sorry, Kris,” Adam repeated the words, his voice a little too fast, clearly nervous, words tumbling over each other as if he was afraid that to allow a moment of silence would be to allow Kris the chance to hang up on him. “I was – really confused, and – and frustrated, but I - shouldn’t have blamed you for what – what happened with Jordan. What – what he did.” Adam paused, and the painful tremor in his voice made Kris’s heart ache when he went on, hushed and hesitant. “What I – what I _chose_.”

 

“Adam, no…”

 

“ _Yes_ , Kris.” Adam’s voice was firm despite its trembling. “I-I’m not saying it’s my fault. No one is responsible for Jordan’s actions but Jordan. But – I still _chose_ him. And – I’m responsible for my choices. I’m responsible for – making smarter, safer ones in the future. _You_ – you’re not responsible for either.”

 

Kris couldn’t help but smile, albeit a bit sadly, at the change in the tone of Adam’s words since the last time they’d spoken.

 

“Sounds like therapy is going well for you.”

 

“It really is.” Adam’s voice was quiet, relieved. “I-I’m learning a lot.” He paused a moment, and the certainty in his words when he spoke again filled Kris with a sense of hope and relief. “I’m – never going to fall for a guy like Jordan again.”

 

“That’s great, Adam. I’m so glad…”

 

“And – you’re _not_ a guy like Jordan.”

 

Unexpectedly Kris felt tears spring to his eyes, and he swallowed hard, unable to speak for a moment.

 

“You’re not,” Adam assured him softly. “You never were, and – I should never have insinuated that you were. You made some stupid moves in all of this, yeah. But – it’s not like you could have known how to handle this situation. It – it was an impossible situation. We shouldn’t have even been together. I-I shouldn’t have been with _anyone_.”

 

The warm sense of reassurance and hope Kris had been feeling was touched by a chill of loss, a strange emptiness – though he knew without a doubt that Adam was right. Adam had needed love and support more than anything during the past few months – but what he hadn’t needed was the confusion and complication of trying to start a new relationship while still trying to recover from his last, disastrous relationship.

 

“I’m sorry,” Kris replied softly. “For – for letting things go there when – when I knew you weren’t ready. I knew you needed time…”

 

“No, you didn’t,” Adam cut him off with soft certainty. “You couldn’t have. _I_ didn’t even know, but – but it was _my choice_. I-I needed you to let me make my own choices – even if I wasn’t ready.”

 

“If I’d have done that,” Kris pointed out softly. “Then – you’d have gone right back to him…”

 

“Like I said – impossible situation.”

 

Kris laughed softly, and something tense and coiled in his chest began to slowly relax when Adam laughed with him. Still, there was something achingly harsh and self-accusing in Adam’s voice when he continued.

 

“It wasn’t fair to – to expect you to just – just _know_ what to do. It wasn’t fair to – leave you with no choice but to decide for me – and then blame you when you did. It wasn’t…” Adam’s voice broke off for a moment, and when he spoke again, there was a tremor of tears behind his soft, sorrowful words. “It wasn’t fair for me to expect you to just blindly love me through all of that…”

 

“ _Life_ isn’t fair, Adam,” Kris interrupted, unable to let Adam continue down that painful line of thought. “And I know that’s a cliché, but it’s true. And besides…” He let out a soft, rueful laugh, the affection he felt showing clearly in his voice, “… it’s not as if I could have done anything else.” He paused, clarifying gently, “I’ll _never_ be able to do anything else.”

 

Adam’s silence on the other end of the line went on a few moments longer than was comfortable, and Kris closed his eyes, hoping he hadn’t crossed a line. When Adam finally broke the silence, the trembling uncertainty in his voice told Kris that he had, at least a little bit.

 

“I – I don’t think I’m ready for that, Kris. I mean – I don’t think we should…”

 

“No, I’m sorry,” Kris hurriedly backtracked. “I mean – I meant it, but – but I’m sorry. I’m not trying to put any pressure on you or anything, it’s just…” He sighed, lowering his face into his hand for a moment, composing himself before admitting softly, “This is hard.”

 

“I know,” Adam quietly conceded. “If it helps – it’s hard for me, too.”

 

“So – what do we do?” Kris asked softly at last. “What – where do we go from here? Just – tell me what you need, and – and I’ll do my best to do it.”

 

“I think – I think I need you to just – just be my friend, Kris. For now.” The words were hesitant, uncertain, and left Kris with a strange sensation of hope and disappointment mingled together. “I mean – I’d love to think that someday, we might – but – I can’t think about that right now, you know? It’s – not going to help me get better. I have to – I have to focus on – on being okay for _me_ , you know? Not – being okay so that I can be with _you_.”

 

It made a perfect, painful sort of sense that Kris could not deny.

 

In order to ever be capable of being in a healthy, normal relationship – with Kris, or anyone else – Adam had to reach a point where he no longer _needed_ Kris. And while Kris desperately wanted for Adam to be healthy and whole and happy, the thought of him growing out of love with Kris scared him more than he wanted to admit.

 

He swallowed hard past the knot in his throat, forcing a smile to his lips, because he knew that he had to be brave as much for himself as for Adam. “Of course,” he replied. “I totally understand. So – relationship talk, off the table for the moment. Got it. What – what do you need me to do?”

 

“Just – just listen, sometimes?” Adam suggested in a soft, uncertain voice. “Kris – whatever else we were, you – you’ve been my best friend these past few months. Aside from my mom, you’re the only one who was _there_ , you know? The only one who – who has any idea what it’s been like for me. And – sometimes, it’ll be good to know that there’s someone like that, that – I can talk to. But – if that’s too hard, then – I get it…”

 

“It’s not,” Kris assured him immediately, with far more certainty than he felt. “I can do that, Adam. Anytime you need to talk – I’m here. Any time of day or night.”

 

And Adam took him at his word.

 

Over the next few weeks, Adam called Kris frequently – and more than a few of those calls came in the middle of the night, in the wake of a nightmare, or when Adam simply couldn’t sleep.

 

They talked about Adam’s therapy, the things he was telling his doctor – and the things he didn’t know how to tell her. Adam talked about the nightmare images that filled his mind when he closed his eyes, until the panic he associated with them began to fade, and he could finally sleep.

 

Sometimes, Adam fell asleep on the phone while talking about other things - ordinary, everyday things like new songs they were working on stories about their days.

 

Sometimes, they _both_ did.

 

And then, their talks became an almost nightly affair, as they each became used to the feeling of falling asleep to the sound of the other’s voice.

 

Kris didn’t say so to Adam, as that would have been breaking the rules, but it was beginning to feel like the early days of his relationship with Katy, when something soft and subtle between them had shifted, and without saying so, they made the transition from friendship to something more, something deeper.

 

One night, Kris had just finished telling Adam a funny story about his day in the studio, when Adam abruptly changed the subject.

 

“My birthday party’s tomorrow night.”

 

Kris blinked, a little caught off guard by the unexpected announcement. He’d been so busy the past weeks, and things had been so strange between him and Adam, that he hadn’t given much thought to the date, and how near Adam’s birthday was becoming. He felt a sharp little pang of disappointment at the thought that plans had been made, and a celebration would be had in honor of the man he loved more than anyone else in the world – and he would not be there to share it.

 

“Oh,” he replied at last, his tone more casual than he actually felt. “That’s great. What are you going to do?”

 

“Just have a few friends over to Mom’s place,” Adam answered. “It’s gonna be really low key. I’m – not really up to a huge party yet. We’re just inviting family and a few really close friends over for the evening, just a nice dinner and some wine, maybe games. Definitely music.”

 

“Sounds great,” Kris observed. Suddenly, he missed Adam so desperately that his absence was a deep ache in his chest.

 

“I – I’d really like it if you were there.”

 

Kris froze for a moment, not quite daring to believe that he’d heard correctly. “Wh-what?”

 

“I mean – only if you’re comfortable coming,” Adam amended cautiously. “If it feels weird, that’s okay. I’ll understand. I just – I miss you. I miss my _friend_ , Kris. And – and it’d mean the world to me if you came.”

 

Kris closed his eyes against the tears of relief and joy that filled them, swallowing hard before replying, “I’d love to be there. I’ll see you then. And, Adam?” He paused, hesitating a moment before adding softly, “It – it means the world to me, too.”


	75. Chapter 75

In his entire life, Kris Allen hadn’t paid so much attention to a single outfit as he did to the one he wore to Adam’s birthday party.

 

On his wedding day, his tux had been pre-arranged and pre-ordered and picked out by Katy, so he hadn’t needed to do much besides just get dressed – and besides, on that day, his wardrobe had been the least of his worries. On Idol, his casual boy-next-door look had quickly become his “thing” – which worked out nicely, since it meant that he could dress comfortably and not worry too much about how his look would be perceived by the voters. Kris had never been one to worry or care much about what he wore.

 

Tonight – he cared all too much.

 

It was going to be the first time he’d seen Adam in months – and not only Adam, but Adam’s family and friends, not all of whom viewed him with the utmost of trust and acceptance.

 

A bit of distance from the situation, and finally reaching a point where he could accept that his romantic relationship with Adam had been _way_ too much too soon, had made Brad’s reluctant, distrustful demeanor toward Kris make a lot more sense. Had their positions been reversed, Kris was pretty sure _he_ wouldn’t have been thrilled, either.

 

And now Adam was finally beginning to recover – and Kris was tiptoeing around the edges of his life again.

 

_What kind of outfit says, ‘Hey, I know he’s still in love with me, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with him, but I promise I’m not going to take advantage of your traumatized, emotionally vulnerable son/brother/friend’?_

Eventually, Kris decided that he was trying too hard, and Adam knew him well enough that he would see it in a second – but that wasn’t necessarily a _bad_ thing, was it? Trying was good; trying meant he cared. Trying meant he wanted to make it up to Adam more than he wanted anything else in the world.

 

 _And_ that’s _why it might be a bad thing – because Adam doesn’t need that from me right now, that pressure, that expectation. He isn’t ready._

_Unless – unless he_ is. _He hasn’t been ready to see me for months, but now, all of a sudden, he’s asked me to his party, and… it’s all just so confusing._

_What does it_ mean _?_

 

He tried to put his worries out of his mind and just focus on the fact that after months apart, he was actually going to see Adam again that night, and just enjoy that exhilarating knowledge. And it worked – right up until he found himself on Leila’s doorstep, the bell already rung, any option to change his mind and flee taken by the soft sound of its echoing inside the house. Kris’s stomach did a little flip as a sudden onslaught of panic struck him.

 

 _This is a mistake. I shouldn’t be here. He’s not ready,_ I’m _not ready…_

 

When Leila opened the door with a warm smile, Kris just stared at her for a moment, unable even to force a polite smile, or to make himself move past the doorway and into the place that had become Adam’s sanctuary over the past few months. Leila stepped forward, taking his arm and leading him physically inside.

 

“Well, don’t just stand out there all night letting the cold in,” she scolded him gently, stopping in the foyer and holding out her hands for his coat as he automatically shrugged it off. “I’m really glad you’re here, Kris.”

 

The sincerity in her voice made Kris feel a warm rush of reassurance, and at last he found that he could return her smile, could meet her eyes, could let himself _breathe_ again.

 

“You know, if it helps,” Leila offered, leaning in close, an understanding, conspiratorial sparkle in her eyes, “Adam’s been nervous about seeing _you_ tonight, too. You know he tried on about a half dozen different outfits this afternoon?”

 

Kris smiled with soft affection at the mental image her words created, so familiar and right. “That’s just Adam, though,” he pointed out. “Doesn’t mean…”

 

“He’s had the perfect outfit picked out for his party for weeks, Kris. _Weeks_. Then after he talks with you last night and invites _you_ to the party – suddenly, it’s not perfect enough anymore.”

 

Leila’s mouth twitched with amusement at whatever she saw on his face, and Kris abruptly realized that he’d been gaping at her in disbelief. He closed his mouth and swallowed hard, looking away as he considered what he hadn’t yet allowed to cross his mind – the possibility that this reunion was more than a friendly obligation, and that this evening meant every bit as much to Adam as it did to him.

 

As Leila led him through the various rooms of the house, crowded with people that Kris mostly didn’t recognize, with a few familiar faces of Adam’s family and closest friends here and there, Kris’s nerves intensified. He found himself wondering what they were thinking about him, how much they knew about his relationship with Adam and how badly it’d gone in the end – if they thought he really had a right to be here at all.

 

Even in Kris’s own mind, the jury was still out on that one.

 

Leila stopped in the kitchen to pour Kris a drink, and Kris stopped short in surprise at the sight of Brad, busily stacking depleted trays with various snacks from saran-wrapped packages on the counter. He was humming a little under his breath as he arranged them artfully, appearing totally comfortable and at home in Leila’s kitchen – almost as if it was his own.

 

Kris frowned, but didn’t realize he was doing it until Brad looked up and saw him, and gave him a wry smile, a single brow raised.

 

“Good to see you too, Kris.”

 

Kris shook his head slightly, eyes self-consciously averted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

 

“Because you’re clearly a paranoid idiot, I’ll just set the record straight right now,” Brad offered, wiping off his hands on a damp cloth on the counter beside him and then coming around it to stand directly in front of Kris, his smile bright and his eyes surprisingly warm. “You have nothing to worry about – at least from me. Adam and I are still _just friends_ – and we always will be.”

 

The sincerity in his voice set Kris’s worries at ease, even as he opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t been worried at all. Brad kept talking, ignoring his weak attempt.

 

“And no matter how hard you try, that’s something that the two of you will never be.” Brad smiled, shaking his head slightly. “You’ll never be _just_ anything. There’s too much history there now for that.” His smile faded slightly, becoming more serious and honest, and he repeated quietly, “I really _am_ glad you’re here.”

 

It was Kris’s turn to raise a brow, allowing his skepticism to show on his face. “Are you?”

 

“Yeah,” Brad assured him without hesitation, apparently not surprised or offended by Kris’s doubtful reaction. “You know – this hasn’t been easy for any of us. Adam’s – he’s amazing, and – and it’s only natural that he’s going to have guys like us wrestling for that honored spot at his side…” Brad looked away for a moment, his lips twitching into a smirk of wicked amusement, as he shrugged slightly. “… and while I’m sure that’s a mental image he’d rather enjoy…” He looked up at Kris again, smile fading, though his expression was still peaceful and calm. “… I’m done fighting, Kris. I – I don’t think I realized it before, but I was – _jealous_.”

 

“Really,” Kris deadpanned, but he couldn’t help a small smile himself. “Shocker.”

 

“I’m not saying I wanted to take him from you. Adam and I – we had our moment, and it was fucking _amazing_.” Brad’s smile was wistful and distant, but content, and Kris found himself a little jealous in that moment, of whatever unknown memory lay behind that smile. “But – at this point in our lives, we’re much better as friends. It’s just that – he was hurting, and vulnerable, and I – I still love him. I don’t think I’ll ever – ever _not_ love him,” Brad admitted frankly. “And I wanted to make sure he was safe, and okay, and – there you were. And all I knew about you was the fact that you’d left him heartbroken when Idol was over.”

 

Kris opened his mouth to protest, but Brad held up a halting hand, shaking his head as he went on.

 

“None of that matters, though, because – it’s not my _business_. You could judge me for leaving him just as easily, except – you don’t _know_ us – me and Adam, together. You don’t know our history, and – and I don’t know yours. All I know, is…” Brad sighed, resolved acceptance in his voice as he concluded, “… he loves you. When he’s not with you, you’re still always in the back of his mind, always – a part of his life.”

 

“He’s – that for me, too. Always – a part of my life,” Kris confessed, his voice low and thick with emotion.

 

Brad nodded knowingly. “So it just stands to reason that you’re both better off if you’re – a part of each other’s lives _–_ you know, in the same general vicinity. All this drama – it’s pointless. I’m glad you guys are friends again, and – if someday it’s more than that…” He shrugged slightly, meeting Kris’s eyes with a sincerity that Kris found immensely reassuring. “… I won’t stand in the way of that.”

 

Brad patted Kris’s arm briskly, a bright smile on his lips. “However, standard threats of severe bodily harm still apply, should you so much as mildly hurt his feelings.”

 

Kris returned Brad’s smile, lowering his eyes with a silent laugh. “Of course.”

 

Brad returned to the counter long enough to pick up the trays he’d just arranged, nodding for Kris to follow him as he headed out the kitchen door. Kris hesitated just a moment, swallowing hard and bracing himself for the awkwardness, the uncertainty, the uncomfortable feeling of being reunited with Adam for the first time in months – in front of every single person Adam knew.

 

When Kris stepped through the living room doorway, however, all of his worries and uncertainties faded out like so much static, the world around him a meaningless blur, because – there was Adam.

 

He was leaning against the arm of Leila’s recliner, one arm resting across his stomach, the other bringing his drink to his lips. He stopped just before taking a sip, however, leaning over and laughing at something the person across from him had just said. He shook his head, sitting up straight again and opening his mouth to respond.

 

Whatever he’d been about to say, however, trailed off into silence, as his eyes drifted toward the doorway and fell on Kris.

 

Their eyes met, and Kris froze, fastened to the floor by the electric sensation. Adam just stared at him for a long moment, and Kris’s heart raced, all of his fears suddenly swelling back to the surface.

 

_He looks so shocked to see me… this is too much, too soon… shouldn’t have come… should have given him more time…_

 

But then, Adam’s eyes lit up, and a warm, genuine smile broke out across his face. It made Kris’s chest ache to see it, because it was something that was so beautiful, so precious, so rare during the last few weeks of their relationship before Adam had left. There was such a new confidence and strength, such open delight in Adam’s eyes, that Kris could instantly tell how much better he was feeling since they’d last seen each other.

 

As Adam set his drink down on the end table beside him and rose to his feet, Kris’s fears melted away with the certainty that this was a _very_ good idea.

 

Adam reached him, and Kris felt a moment’s self-consciousness before realizing that the partygoers around them were simply going on with their conversations as if nothing was happening – and to them, perhaps nothing was.

 

For Kris – his entire world was shifting on its axis, falling back into its natural rhythm, as Adam’s hand reached out to touch his arm, and suddenly he felt steadier, stronger, than he’d felt in months.

 

“Hey.” Adam’s voice was soft, almost shy, and up close, Kris could see the slight nervousness just beyond the confidence Adam so clearly portrayed.

 

That was okay; Kris was unbelievably nervous himself.

 

“Hey,” he replied simply, then added, “It’s _so_ good to see you.”

 

Adam’s smile widened, and he nodded. “Yeah. You, too.”

 

The moment passed all too quickly, as a new guest arrived, requiring Adam’s attention for the moment, and Leila stepped in to take Kris away and introduce him to more of Adam’s family that he hadn’t yet met. They spent the greater part of the evening together, yet separate, surrounded by other people – but it was still comfortable and pleasant, and Kris found himself relaxing and enjoying himself.

 

As the evening drew toward its end, and Adam’s guests began to leave, the mood in the room shifted to something more intimate, only a few very close friends and family left in Leila’s living room, lingering and talking over their last drinks of the evening. Adam rose from his seat, making the excuse of refreshing his, but stopped beside Kris’s seat near the door. Kris rose as he approached, giving him a quiet, questioning look.

 

“Hey.” Adam gave him that shy, nervous smile again, glancing toward the kitchen doorway.

 

“Hey.”

 

“So, um…” Adam hesitated, reaching out to barely touch Kris’s hand with his own, and Kris lost his breath for a moment. “… wanna go somewhere and talk?”

 

“Yeah,” Kris agreed, his shoulders falling with relief as he took Adam’s hand for a moment before letting it go. “Yeah, I – I’d like that.”


	76. Chapter 76

Adam led Kris through the deserted kitchen to the back door, and the patio beyond it. The cool, fresh night air sent a shiver down Kris’s spine – or perhaps it was just the sense of uncertain expectation that came over him as he realized that for the first time in months, he was actually alone with Adam again.

Adam walked to the wooden railing that surrounded the patio, looking up into the darkened sky, just a few tiny stars visible overhead. It was a clear, peaceful night, and Kris couldn’t help but feel the stillness of it steal over him as he hesitantly moved to join Adam there. 

“Thank you so much for inviting me here tonight.” 

Kris softly broke the silence, his voice hushed in reverence to the mood that had fallen, the weight of meaning that this night held for them both. He didn’t know what was going to happen, or why Adam had brought him out here. All he knew was that this moment was inexplicably, unbelievably important. 

“This night has been – it’s just been amazing.”

Adam nodded slowly, a contented smile on his lips as he stared out into the distance. “It really has,” he agreed. He seemed to be taking a great deal of pleasure in the stunning view from his patio of the city skyline. 

Kris couldn’t take his eyes off of Adam.

“You’re doing so well,” he observed, softness and affection stealing over his words, as he took in the beautiful smile on Adam’s face, the quiet confidence that had returned to his posture at some point during the past few months. “I-I’m so proud of you, Adam.”

“I am doing well,” Adam acknowledged, leaning against the railing as he finally turned to face Kris, his eyes warm and shining as they met Kris’s gaze.”I – I’m _happy_.” He glanced downward as he added, “I mean – it’s not _perfect_. It’s not – it hasn’t been easy. I – still think about – Jordan, and – and I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” He looked up at Kris again, his expression solemn, though still calm and composed. “I don’t _want_ to forget. But – I have moved on.” He was quiet for a long moment, lips parted to speak, but hesitant, until he finally ventured to ask, “H-have _you_? Moved on?”

It’d been months since they’d been alone together, but Kris still knew Adam well enough to immediately understand what he was asking. It was about so much more than just Kris’s emotional well-being following their ordeal with Jordan. Adam wanted to know if anyone else had come into Kris’s life during the past few months.

He wanted to know if there was still a chance for them.

There was only one answer Kris could give.

“I haven’t. I – I’m not sure I ever could.”

“Oh, thank God,” Adam sighed, visibly relaxing, raising a hand to run through his hair with a nervous, relieved laugh. Then he looked up at Kris again with a rueful, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I know that’s a shitty thing to say, and – and to feel, after I – I’m the one who put us – on hold, or wherever the fuck we are right now, but – I was just so afraid that maybe you’d found someone else.”

Kris reached out, slowly and cautiously, to place his hand over Adam’s on the railing. He swallowed hard, gathering his courage before he looked up to meet Adam’s eyes, his voice low and earnest.

“There won’t ever be anyone else for me, Adam. There’s – there’s only you.” He took a moment to regain his composure, adding at last in a hoarse whisper, “It took me – way too long to realize that, but – but I know it now.”

Adam was quiet for a moment, staring down at Kris’s hand on his, before slowly turning his hand to clasp Kris’s gently.

“I’m not saying I’m ready for this,” he warned Kris cautiously. “I mean – I _want_ to be. I want to – be with _you_. But – I’m not sure yet if – if I can be – without…”

“… everything going to hell again?” Kris smiled, understanding, despite his sinking heart. “I get that.”

_ He’s not ready… he’s still too scared… and can I blame him?  _

_ I screwed everything up so badly last time… _

“I _am_ ready to think about it, though,” Adam clarified softly, meeting Kris’s gaze, before Kris had time to let his worst fears take over. “To – to _try_. Slowly. And carefully. I mean – if you still want to.”

Kris couldn’t believe the doubt, the hesitation he heard in Adam’s voice. “If I _want_ to?” he echoed with a soft, incredulous laugh. “Adam – I’ve never wanted anything so much.”

A relieved, almost shy smile crossed Adam’s lips, and he looked down again. “I’d need you to be willing to go see my therapist with me,” he cautioned. “I mean – if we’re going to do this, this time we need to make sure we do it right.”

“Of course,” Kris agreed immediately. “We need that. We need each other, but we have to figure out – how to be together without – without hurting each other, and – I think we need help doing that.”

Adam nodded, clearly relieved by Kris’s ready acceptance of his terms. Then, his smile slowly faded, as he looked up at Kris again, uncertain.

“I just – I need to know that you want this for – the right reasons.”

Kris frowned, shaking his head slightly in confusion.

“I need to know that you’re not doing this out of – pity, or – or some kind of obligation, or because you’re the guy who just wants to fix all the broken people – and I _love_ that about you, Kris. Don’t get me wrong. Your – your tremendous heart, and – and your capacity to love – but – I have to know that I’m not just – just that guy who’s only attractive to you because he’s – broken, and – and needs you so much. The guy who – won’t look so good to you once he’s better. Because – I _am_ getting better.”

“I _want_ you to get better, Adam,” Kris insisted, moving to close some of the distance between them, squeezing Adam’s hand and looking up into his eyes intently. “I’m not attracted to you because you’re – damaged, or whatever.” He paused, his words measured and certain when he spoke again. “I’ve loved you from the first day I met you. It just – took me a while to figure out that’s what I was feeling. I…” He looked down, shaking his head as he tried to find the words. “… I guess I thought – I wasn’t _supposed_ to feel it, so – so I told myself it was – just friendship, but – Adam, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Adam took that in, quiet and pensive for a long moment, and Kris’s heart clenched with the sudden certainty of understanding – Adam wasn’t sure whether or not to believe his words. Adam’s soft, cautious response only confirmed Kris’s fears.

“I – I can’t be – someone’s second choice again, Kris.” Adam’s voice was thick with unshed tears, revealing more vulnerability and uncertainty than Kris had seen in him all night. “If I’m going to be with you, I have to _know_.”

Kris waited, finally venturing when Adam didn’t speak again, “Know – know what?”

“That you want _me_ ,” Adam concluded finally, still not quite looking at Kris. “That – you’re not – _settling_ for me…”

“ _Adam_.” Kris’s voice was firm as he stepped closer to Adam, reaching out to take his other hand and looking up at him, waiting until Adam reluctantly met his eyes to go on. “Nothing could be farther from the truth,” he declared softly. “You are my first and _only_ choice, Adam. And you always will be. You talk about ‘moving on’. Well, the reason I could never move on from you is – is that I’ve _been_ with you, Adam, and – and after having that – being with you – anyone else I could ever be with – _that_ would be settling.” 

He glanced down for a moment, swallowing hard, before looking up at Adam again. “To be honest, I – I was beginning to be afraid that – I had a _lifetime_ of settling ahead of me. It’s – more than I’d hoped, that you might – give me another chance to do this right.”

Adam closed his eyes, and a tear glistened on his cheek in the moonlight. Kris wanted nothing more than to take him into his arms and hold him, to soothe his tears away – but that wasn’t what Adam needed from him right now. Adam was struggling to find the words he wanted, past the emotions he was feeling – and he didn’t need Kris to take those words from him, to comfort and soothe and _silence_ him. 

Adam had spent the last few months learning to be strong – and now, Kris had to learn to _let_ him.

“You – you aren’t the only one who did things wrong last time,” Adam confessed softly, shaking his head. “Kris – we both made mistakes, and – and we can’t undo them, but – but we can start over. That’s – that’s what I want. Can we just – start over?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Kris immediately, fervently replied, his own eyes burning with tears of relief and gratitude. “Adam, that’s _exactly_ what I want.”

“We – we have to go slow,” Adam said softly, and Kris got the impression that he was reminding himself as much as he was reminding Kris. “We can’t just – jump into this. We have to take it slowly and make sure we’re not – falling into old habits, you know?”

“Right,” Kris agreed. “At least – not the bad ones.”

“Right.” 

Adam nodded a little shakily, staring down at Kris with unmistakable longing in his eyes, and Kris found himself drawn in closer by the look he saw there. Adam’s hands slipped from his, coming to rest, one at his waist and the other on his back, and Kris found himself responding in kind, his hands sliding onto Adam’s hips, his breath quickening slightly with the shock of desire that went through him at the knowledge that this was really happening – they were really together again, really going to try to make things work.

And now that he could have Adam again, Kris found that he’d never wanted him so desperately.

“Some habits, though,” he pointed out, a little breathless, a little hoarse. “Some habits aren’t – aren’t _all_ bad…”

“No,” Adam agreed. “No, they’re – they’re not. We had – _some_ things right…”

“So – how slow are we talking, exactly, here?” Kris asked, his mouth suddenly dry, his palms damp with anxious anticipation. 

“Pretty slow,” Adam replied in a similar tone, though the regret was unmistakable in his voice. “We can’t – can’t take a chance on wrecking this…”

“Right. You’re right,” Kris agreed. “Of course you’re right.” He drew away, reluctantly, from their embrace. “I – I’d better go. I mean – it’s getting late, and – and we can talk tomorrow, but – I don’t want to – to screw things up.”

“Yeah,” Adam sighed, sounding about as happy with Kris’s decision as Kris was. “You’d better go.”

Kris turned to walk away – then stopped, hesitating. He was quiet for a moment before half-turning toward Adam again, looking up at him and venturing softly, “But – would it be too fast – too much to ask for – a goodnight kiss?”

“I – I don’t think so…” Adam shrugged slightly, moving immediately closer to Kris, reaching out to him again. “I mean – that’s high school stuff, right? About as – as innocent and harmless as it gets, so – yeah. That’d be – I see nothing wrong with…”

The rest of his sentence was swallowed up in silence, as Kris swiftly closed the remaining distance between them, wrapping his arms around Adam and drawing him down into the eager warmth of his kiss. Adam stood there for a split-second, caught off guard, before palming the back of Kris’s hand with one large hand and pulling him closer, his other hand slipping around to the small of Kris’s back and holding him in place.

Kris let out a soft, approving little hum of pleasure, relishing the familiar heat of Adam’s kiss, the soft strength of his touch – and reveling in the knowledge that, in every possible way – Adam was so much stronger than he’d remembered. 


	77. Chapter 77

Kris knew that they couldn’t rush into this, couldn’t risk making the same mistakes they’d made before – and he knew that regardless of how badly he wanted to be with Adam again, the most important consideration in all of this was that this time around, they took it slow and handled things the right way.

 

And as difficult as it was for him, that meant tearing himself away and making himself go home that night, after nothing more than a simple kiss goodnight.

 

It meant going home, and waiting, as long as it took, for Adam to be the first one to call.

 

It meant waiting a torturous twenty-four hours.

 

They talked every night after that, without fail – but they decided not to see each other again until Kris could attend therapy with Adam, which was nearly a week after Adam’s party.

 

Adam’s therapist was optimistic, tentatively pleased with their decision to pursue a cautious relationship again.

 

“You two have become so much a part of each other’s lives,” she pointed out, “it’d be almost like adding a fresh trauma, to try to keep you apart. And there’s no reason why you should _have_ to be apart, as long as you go about this in an appropriate way.”

 

She gave them some advice, a few practical guidelines to stick to, in order to make sure things stayed healthy and stable and not at all like the obsessive, bordering-on-codependent state they’d been in before.

 

She told them that Adam needed to make his own decisions, and not rely on Kris to make them for him – starting with small things, like planning their dates. She suggested that they each set limits for the other, similar to the list of “rules” Kris had tried before – things that they required from the other in order to feel respected and listened to and loved. She suggested that they limit their time together, at least for the time being – as a normal, just-dating, taking-it-slow couple would – a couple of hours out together, after which they’d both go home – to their _separate_ homes.

 

“That’s… probably a good idea,” Adam agreed, casting an apologetic look in Kris’s direction. “I mean… I don’t think we’re – _I’m_ – ready yet, you know? This – this is wonderful, spending time with you, and – and getting close again, but – I don’t think it’s the right time yet to get… _that_ close.”

 

”You’re right. It’s still way too soon.” Kris smiled and squeezed Adam’s hand, accepting his words with a nod – a little disappointed, yes, but also a little relieved – because as tempting as it was to think of taking that next step with Adam, that decision also came with a heavy responsibility, and Kris wasn’t sure he knew exactly how to handle that just yet.

 

For the moment, it was enough just to allow himself to get to know Adam again.

 

And Kris discovered that there was a certain charm to the old-fashioned notion of courting, the innocent romance of taking things slowly. He found himself seeking out little ways to make Adam feel special and wanted, ways that didn’t necessarily focus on the physical attraction Kris felt for him – though he made sure to leave no doubt in Adam’s mind that, whenever he was ready, Kris _did_ indeed want to be with him.

 

Kris knew that however things went this time, Adam had to know that he had a choice – that it was up to him whether or not things ever went any further between them. They both had to know that he wasn’t being pressured or led into something he wasn’t ready for, even accidentally. It made it easier for Kris, in a way, to have control over the situation taken out of his hands.

 

“Just take things at your own pace,” their therapist advised them. “Don’t feel like you _have_ to do _anything_. There’s no rush, but there’s also no reason to keep yourselves from getting closer, whenever you’re both ready. And only _you_ will know when that is. You _both_ have to be ready – and you both will know when it’s right.”

 

It felt like the talk Kris’s parents had given him when he was thirteen years old – only just _slightly_ less awkward, and a _lot_ more permissive.

 

They didn’t talk about it after that. Kris was afraid to bring it up, not wanting to give Adam the impression that he was in a hurry or pushing him in any way. Adam didn’t mention it, so Kris was left wondering. Kris knew that _he_ was ready – had been since that night at Adam’s party – but _Adam_ had to be sure, and Kris didn’t want to do anything to make him feel pressured by asking.

 

The problem was, Kris didn’t know of any other way to know what Adam was thinking.

 

But when the time was right, it became immediately, perfectly clear.

 

A familiar spark in Adam’s smile, a lingering touch of his hand before he drew away with a sort of disappointment in his eyes – as if he wanted to venture farther, but was uncertain as to whether or not he should; Kris wasn’t sure either, so he didn’t bring it up, didn’t press the issue. He knew he had to let Adam work through his nervous uncertainty on his own.

 

But he made certain to return those fleeting, questioning looks – to gently squeeze Adam’s hand before letting it go, and to allow his own desirous gaze to linger a bit longer than before, hoping that Adam would notice, and know that, whenever he _was_ ready, Kris would welcome his advances.

 

When Adam suggested one night that they go back to his new house and watch movies, Kris couldn’t help but wonder what he _really_ wanted to do – and then reminded himself that he was probably over-analyzing the situation. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t allowed themselves to spend time alone, late at night, in either of their homes yet. Adam probably just meant that he wanted to _watch movies_ , and nothing more. It would be dangerous for Kris to get his hopes up.

 

But then, Adam picked a movie they’d both seen a dozen times. And then, Adam snuggled in close to Kris on the sofa, running a hand slowly up and down Kris’s thigh, his gaze focused a little too intently on the television screen. Kris looked at him, studying his face until Adam finally returned his gaze – searching, not quite sure exactly what he was hoping to find there. Adam held his gaze for an intense moment before leaning in for a slow, cautious kiss.

 

Kris was careful with his hands, leaving them pressed against the sofa beneath him for a moment. A kiss was simply that, and not necessarily anything more. They’d shared a good number of kisses in the last few weeks, all of them with the presumption that they could not let that kiss lead to more.

 

But this – this was different.

 

This held the unspoken expectation of months of longing separation, and everything Kris had wanted for as long as he could remember.

 

 _Slowly… careful… let him lead…_ Kris reminded himself. _No pressure, choice in his hands, all that… can’t push him…_

 

But pushing Adam didn’t seem to an issue, because within moments, Kris was the one being pushed back onto the sofa as Adam deepened the kiss, turning his full attention on Kris. He shifted on the sofa, pressing into closer contact with Kris, and in the process knocking the remote off the sofa with a soft thud against the carpet that they both ignored, as his hand came to rest at the back of Kris’s head, pulling him in closer. Kris eagerly returned Adam’s advances, shifting his own position to allow Adam more room to maneuver.

 

Adam’s hands were trembling, his breath quick and shallow – so when he reached for the buttons on Kris’s shirt, Kris gently caught Adam’s hands in his own, looking up at him intently. Adam met his eyes and froze, staring back at him, swallowing hard. His words were hesitant, his voice hoarse and uncertain.

 

“Is – is this okay? Are we – are we really ready to do this?”

 

Kris tried to steady his own ragged breathing, tried to keep his voice even and neutral. “Adam,” he whispered, shaking his head slowly and holding Adam’s gaze with a soft, rueful smile. “You’re gonna have to tell _me_.”

 

Adam’s eyes widened slightly as he realized what Kris was saying, and he seemed to take a moment to consider the implications of what they were doing, of what Kris was pointing out to him. Finally, he met Kris’s eyes again, a slow smile spreading across his face as he nodded slowly.

 

“It is,” he replied softly at last. “We are.”

 

Old, protective instincts surged to the forefront of Kris’s mind, warring with his own selfish desires. He fought the deeply ingrained need to ask again, to worry and second-guess and demand gently to know, “Are you _sure_?”

 

He didn’t say it, though the words echoed through his thoughts, anxious and uncertain. This was the moment it all came down to, he realized – a moment in which he had to trust in Adam’s healing, in the progress he’d made, in the fact that he knew what he wanted, needed, could decide what was best for himself. Kris needed only to trust Adam’s decision, and accept it.

 

If Adam believed he was ready, then – the only thing Kris could do was to believe it, too.

 

“I – I love you, Adam,” Kris whispered instead, at last, looking up into Adam’s eyes, silently searching for the reassurance he only barely kept himself from asking for.

 

“I love you, too,” Adam whispered back, his eyes lighting up with pleasure at Kris’s words, before he leaned down to kiss Kris again.

 

The kiss was deep and purposeful, forceful and gentle at the same time, and a little thrill passed through Kris at the sense of tightly coiled control, of restrained power just below the surface, in Adam’s kiss, and the way his strong arms wrapped around Kris and held him there, every bit his willing captive.

 

 _He’s stronger than he ever knew,_ Kris realized. _Stronger than I remembered. Strong, and confident, and so,_ so _freakin’ beautiful…_

 

 _And mine. He’s_ mine, _too. Because he_ chooses _to be._

 

It was an overwhelming, awe-inspiring thought. It was all Kris could do to simply take in what was happening between them, to feel the sensation of Adam touching him, kissing him, holding him close – and to know that they’d made it, come full circle from that painful moment in which he’d first turned Adam away.

 

 _Never again,_ Kris swore to himself. _Now that we’re finally here… finally together and safe and an entire future together to look forward to… I’m never going to do anything to lose him again._

 

 _We’ve got a second chance to make this work… a chance to be together and be happy… and I’m going to make sure that for the rest of our lives, there’s never a moment when he doesn’t know that he’s the only one I want to be with… not second to_ anyone _, but my first, last, and_ only _choice. Forever._


End file.
